A Matter of Perspective
by soralia
Summary: From humble beginnings to traitorous ends, in his own words Orochimaru relates his story, tracing the path to the betrayal of those he held most dear.
1. Chapter 1

My bloodline was a small one to begin with, but by the time I was born it had disintegrated to only one family. My mother was a sickly woman and always had been, so I was told. Most considered it a miracle that she bore a child at all, let alone managed to produce one devoid of any serious illness. However, the birth had been hard on her and left her almost bedridden for the rest of her life. Such were the ends they went to to preserve the bloodline.

Thanks in great part to my mother's condition, I was considered a weak child, though it could not have been further from the truth. Brute strength counts for nothing in this world. At the beginning, oafs like Jiraiya could best me easily when it came to physical prowess, but I don't think he was able to even lay a hand on me for quite some time because unlike Jiraiya, I was a genius. A once in a decade genius, they said, but I liked to think it was more correct to say once in a lifetime.

I spent little time at home as a boy, but what time I did spend was given over almost entirely to my mother. Father was often on missions, his own choice rather than a duty imposed on him by Nidaime-sama. Konoha was prosperous at the time with a veritable army of ninja at its disposal and did not require its jounin to spend such a great deal of their time in the field. I had come to the conclusion by the time I was four that father took on so many missions in order to escape the hassle that was caring for mother. So from the beginning my life was given to study and nursing.

On the days she felt well enough, mother would help me with my studies. I would sit perched on the foot of her bed, telling her of what we learned in the academy. She would elaborate on topics the sensei only mentioned in brief and instruct me in the special techniques unique to the family.

It was late in my sixth year when she finally took a turn for the worse. I had graduated by then and was away more often tending to the ridiculous missions that were always forced upon the brand new genin. Mother knew she was dying and it didn't matter to her so much. She said it was best to escape such a disappointing venture sooner rather than later. There was no way to make the most out of a human life, even a healthy one, she said, when the time given was so brief. So when she found herself unable to do even the most basic things, she saw no further point in it.

Before the end, she entrusted to me the most valuable strength our family possessed. I made blood pact with the snakes that day, signing my name next to hers. The first snake I ever summoned was purposefully small. A young snake with slow moving, numbing venom. I never asked if it was what she wanted. Suicide was something terribly frightening, even to a brave soul, so it was better in the end to remove the choice entirely from her hands. Perhaps at the end, when the numbness took hold, she regretted the choice, but it hardly mattered. Even had she protested, I would have done the same. I had learned everything I could from her and I no longer had any use for a dying woman.

When it was done, I released the snake, a pathetic creature I never once called for again, and retreated from the room. It wasn't until my father came home days later that the village even knew she had died. There was no point in disrupting my normal schedule to deal with a nuisance like that. It was time better spent gathering and organizing her texts and beginning my studies in earnest, learning all the secret kinjutsu she had neglected to teach me. Mourning for such a woman, who had not taught all she knew, was useless.

It wasn't even a year later when my father died. It was an unfortunate accident while on a mission, though no one had witnessed the event itself. The circumstances surrounding his death were decidedly strange, but as near as they could see, he'd been dispatched by the enemy. I allowed them to think so, as it was in my best interest.


	2. Chapter 2

I realize Orochimaru doesn't exactly have a huge fanbase, so that makes me a bit weird to most people. However, I like to look deeper into a character than just the simple 'bad guy' designation. The first chapter was pretty dark, so I hope to balance it out a little with this lighter chapter. I just want to show that even Orochimaru wasn't always so bad.

Warning: There is some foul language in this chapter. One particularly bad word that might be semi-offensive. However, it just felt like something that would be said by a young, crass Jiraiya. So tread lightly if vulgarity offends you.

* * *

Like any new genin, I was forced into a very abrupt change of environment. During his academy days, every student gets used to being the singular focus of his own life. A student only worries about his own grades and his own performance, but when he graduates, focus must shift. The ninja becomes part of a team and must learn to think in terms of that team and how best to utilize its various talents to the best of his ability. Such a transition was particularly difficult for me.

As an only child who had been the sole focus of his mother's attentions, not to mention being the top student in my graduating class, I had become more than a little self centered. I saw idiots like Jiraiya as obstacles that barred my way rather than assets to be used effectively. As far as I was concerned, Jiraiya had no practical uses other than a living door stop.

During the few months of working with Jiraiya on meaningless missions, I had never really elected to speak to the fool except in the event that I was forced to due to the mission parameters, and in that case I said little and heard less. There were much better things to waste time and energy on than an idiot and his unhealthy obsession with fumbling through missions. It wasn't after those few months had passed, during which I'd made every effort to avoid him, that I discovered Jiraiya's true obsession. One that was much more unhealthy than ruining missions.

I had been forced to set out into town for those necessary chores that drove everyone out of solitude at times. My path took me past the bath house. One could always hear the voices within, especially the women who tended to congregate there as if it were some type of social gathering. Only today, I heard something else along with the female voices. The noise was soft, as if muffled by a hand, but it was still unmistakable.

Giggling. The giggles were the type you heard from a mischievous child who thought himself getting away with wrongdoing. I have to admit, it made me very curious. So I set aside my errands for the time being and instead chose to investigate the bushes that grew beside the far wall of the ladies' bath.

It didn't take long to find him, though the naked eyes on an initial glance, would not have seen him. My eyes were sharp, though, and I recognized the disarray of white hair almost instantly. The hair shook a little as its owner muffled his giggles once more. He didn't notice me when I drew near, focused instead on what went on beyond the wall.

"You are aware this is the ladies' bath house?"

There have been few times I have ever seen Jiraiya panic and this was the first. The boy turned with eyes wide as saucers. Just as I'd thought, he hadn't noticed me approach. Though it didn't stop him from reacting just as quickly. Before I could protest, he had taken a sharp hold of my arm, pulling me full force into the bushes with him where he covered my mouth firmly as he took a quick glance inside to be sure he hadn't been detected. Satisfied with his safety, he released me and then risked his cover more than I ever could have.

He talked in dramatic stage whispers that, at that age, all children thought were stealthy. "Oi, shut up! Do you want them to see us?"

"Us?" I hardly recalled being the snooper, but then it struck me quite heavily that if we were to be caught at this very moment, I would look just as guilty as the idiot beside me.

"They're not going to stay much longer and if you make too much noise, they'll run." The harsh whispers continued and I couldn't help but laugh a bit at the desperation in his eyes and voice.

"Who will run?" Again, before I could even finish the thought, he clamped a hand firmly over my mouth. Did he have to touch me like that?

My question, simple as it was, was only answered by what I could only describe as a fit of deranged laughter and a brief tug towards the wall. When I didn't look willingly, the fool had the nerve to push me closer so that my eye fell right along the crack he'd been using to spy. What I saw inside was enough to shock even myself, who was so knowledgeable about so many things… who had never before seen a woman in the nude.

Now I understood Jiraiya's paranoia.

He appeared beside me after a moment, releasing me from his grasp so he could press his eye to the crack as well, giggling a little more to himself. This time, when he spoke, his whisper was less dramatic and more functional. "The one there in the center with the dark hair… look at that one. She's got huge tits!"

"Tits…?" I had never before heard the word 'tits' in all my life. They didn't use such words in academic texts.

For his part, Jiraiya didn't seem entirely shocked by my lack of expertise. He only snickered a little, making a gesture that looked as if he were squeezing a pair of melons to test for ripeness. "You know. Tits. Boobs!"

"You mean, you're looking at their breasts?"

"Of course! What else would I be looking at?" He tore his eyes away from the 'tits' long enough to look at me as if I'd just sprouted another head. "You can't tell me you don't enjoy that view? I mean, look at her. She's a masterpiece!"

"She is?" My brow creased as I gave another appraising look to the so-called masterpiece and her 'great tits.' All I saw was a woman without her clothes on sitting in a bath. Was I missing something?

Jiraiya seemed oblivious to my confusion, his gaze focused intently on the crack in the wall. "You can't tell? Just look at how big they are. And round and pretty and when she stands up you'll see what a great ass she has. It's just perfect. You don't see many girls like her!"

Obviously he wasn't making this up, so I looked again, studying her much more thoughtfully than I had before. True, she was fairly well proportioned. No parts of her seemed too large or small or out of place and I suppose by most standards she was very pretty. Still, being only six years old, I was hardly one to understand the subtleties of human beauty. In this way, Jiraiya was more of a genius than I ever was – or ever would be.

I thought it better, at the time, to avoid any conflict and to simply agree with the idiot. The lectures could wait until we were not in such a precarious position. Even a conversation in whispers was a risk, so I simply nodded my agreement, staring for a few moments longer, though I was more intrigued with the way her long hair pooled in the water and danced on the surface like any number of snakes intertwined with one another. Now that was beauty.

When I was sure I'd lingered long enough to avoid conflict and feign interest, I drew back from the wall and stepped out of the bushes, brushing a few wrinkles out of my kimono. He looked shocked to see me leaving so soon, but I suppose he thought me hopeless. Good. Perhaps then he would cease to bother me.

"Do not forget we're due for training later. I would hate to see you late again due to such unsavory habits."

Jiraiya didn't take very kindly to that, but his only response was to stick out his tongue and turn back to the crack, bouncing lightly on his heels, pleased by whatever he saw inside. "Yeah, yeah, training." What a positive attitude he had about his career of choice.

"Look, if you're not gonna stay and watch, then get outa here before they notice you."

"As you wish." Giving one final glance his way and a slight shake of my head, I retreated back into the street, still able to hear his giggling from there. Stealthy, he was not.

Later as I made my way to our afternoon training, I caught wind of a bit of talk around the village. There had been an incident at the bath house. Some kid had been sent scampering away with a black eye when a jounin inside had detected him. I could only sigh. Stealthy, he was not.

Jiraiya showed up late to training sporting a swollen, black eye. The fool was proud of it, too. He claimed it was a battle scar gained when spotting a most amazing beauty.

Why did they have to put me on a team with this fool?

* * *

Much more to come!

Please R&R.


	3. Chapter 3

With this chapter I begin my attemptsto firmly outline a timline. There is very little information out there about the events surrounding the training and advancement of the Sannin, so I've been forced to use what little I can find in the anime and manga to piece something together.

So I'll say right now, almost none of the timeline you'll find here is in any way cannon. The latest manga release at the time of this writing was chapter 290, so that's all I have to go on. But if anyone catches me in a mistake, please let me know so I can attempt to correct.

Thanks and enjoy! Please R &R.

-sor

* * *

When I was eight years old, Nidaime died, leaving word that Sarutobi-sensei was to follow him as Hokage. I cannot claim to have been pleased with the choice, though I would not have been pleased with any choice but myself. However, I understood the implication of naming a child Hokage and thus, as Nidaime was obviously attempting to avoid conflict, accepted his choice. Sarutobi-sensei was not unskilled, nor was he an ill choice. It was something I could live with. No doubt I would be named when Sandaime was prepared to retire.

Of course, Sarutobi-sensei's promotion was not all bad. In fact, it had one very positive result. Due to his new duties, it was uncommon for Sandaime to step outside the village for missions. Thus, while he continued to see to our training, command of our missions naturally fell to me.

It was during this time that the three of us – Jiraiya, Tsunade, and I – began to truly learn each others' strengths. We worked much like a well oiled machine, able to compensate for one team member's weakness or augment his strengths with hardly a moment's thought. For this, I cannot take all the credit, though I will admit that much of it occurred at my direction. Still, Jiraiya, despite his obvious flawed morality, was a quick thinker and due to much practice, his stealth was second to none. And Tsunade was bright and bold, a strong leader in her own right.

It was also during this time that my obsession with ambition faded somewhat. Certainly, I studied as hard as I ever did, but it was not always unusual to find me joining Jiraiya for lunch at the ramen stand or enjoying a game of dice with Tsunade. We three developed such a unity that it was no difficult task to practically read one another's minds, or at least to the degree one had to do such a thing to operate effectively on missions. There were always certain topics that were taboo. For instance, Jiraiya's obsession with women and Tsunade's tendency to place unfavorable wagers.

And there were other topics as well. My ruthlessness, my cruelty. Things that seemed so huge and overwhelming to my two more innocent teammates. Things that were nothing at all compared to what they are now. No, those things we did not talk about.

However, I had never been one to worry over what was or was not taboo.

It was after one particularly simple mission in the winter after my twelfth birthday that I first chose to broach such a subject with Tsunade. As it turned out, I had managed to absorb a rather large portion of the knowledge available in the academy library, including texts not always offered to every student. Seeing my hunger for knowledge, a few of the academy sensei had smuggled a handful of the higher ranked volumes out of hiding for me, which I had devoured eagerly. Fascinating, all of it. However, their generosity only made me hunger for more knowledge. Knowledge that remained locked away from me. It was a horrible feeling.

This was why I turned to Tsunade, whose intelligence would have been much more celebrated had it not been so effectively overshadowed by my own. But then, everyone's intelligence was overshadowed by my own.

Tsunade was linked by blood to the first, and greatest of our Hokage. No doubt there were familial secrets passed down through her line just as there were through mine. All ninja families had secrets they liked to keep very much to themselves, not just the powerful clans, as many thought. It wasn't my goal, however, to learn what secret jutsu Shodai-sama had passed down to his bloodline. Such a thing would have been impudent of me. I had too much respect for the line of Hokage to do that.

However, certainly there must have been some knowledge locked away that was not tied to the immediate family. Something that was held in secret, away from all but the most capable ninja.

I had been considering this for some time as the three of us made our way back to the village, though I had disguised my pondering by pretending to read. The scroll I had produced from my belt was one I had already read on the way to our mission destination, but it served to keep my teammates out of my hair while I gathered my thoughts. They knew better than to interrupt me when I was reading. Or at least, I had thought so.

It seemed, though, that Jiraiya couldn't stand extended periods of silence. With a grumpy sigh, he jogged a few steps to close the distance between us and peer over my shoulder at the text. It only took a moment for him to wrinkle his nose and snort in my ear. "How can you read that crap all the time? You've got plenty of life ahead of you to study!"

He made a grab for the scroll, but I expertly evaded him, choosing to roll it up and replace it at my belt rather than indulge in his childish games. "Knowledge is infinite, Jiraiya. A human life is not."

"Yeah, well I'd rather spend my human life on something worthwhile… like women." Jiraiya stuffed his hands into his pockets, pouting just a little, unable to understand why I didn't share his interest in perversion.

Thankfully, I was spared the task of responding. Tsunade had stepped up beside us both, giving Jiraiya a firm smack to the back of his head, strong enough to send him stumbling forward a few feet. "You don't know anything about women at all, Jiraiya! Don't talk like you do. You could use a little bit more studying and a little less women, if you ask me."

This caused Jiraiya to pout even more. "Yeah, well nobody asked you or your flat chest."

The conversation followed its typical direction from that point and I gladly put some distance between myself and the childishness. Tsunade retaliated to that insult with more physical violence and Jiraiya responded in kind, casting a few blows of his own between insults to Tsunade's figure. It would have gone on like this indefinitely had I not intervened.

Not one to get my hands dirty, after all, taijutsu was the most primitive of the ninja arts, I tended to solve nearly every problem with a jutsu of some kind. I had such a wealth of them stored away in my mind it seemed a waste not to use them. The technique I chose was one from that very scroll Jiraiya had attempted to snatch just moments before. It was a technique that effected and solidified sound waves, creating a transparent wall, a wall that I pressed between the two combatants, leaving Jiraiya to throw a fairly forceful kick against it. If his yowling was any indication, the jutsu had been a complete success.

Not to mention, he was cursing up a storm. "I've got better things to do than deal with this! I'm going on ahead." He threw an unhappy wave at the two of us before darting off down the road. We were close enough to Konoha that I let him go. No doubt he was running off to peek through his usual crack in the bath house.

"Really… what an idiot." Tsunade watched him scamper off with a shake of her head. "He's a chuunin now. You'd think he'd be more mature."

I had already plucked another scroll from my belt again purely out of habit and unrolled it. "If that type of maturity were qualification for advancement in this village, we would be a village of hopeless genin." It was a constant trial to be a man in Konoha not obsessed with naked women. Their common perversion gave Jiraiya and Sarutobi-sensei a bond I could never have had with him. There were times I wondered if things would have been different if our sensei had understood my ambitions more than he understood Jiraiya's.

I scolded myself silently. It was pointless to dwell on such things. It would be a more productive use of my time to turn the conversation in the direction I had meant it to go. "More and more I find Konoha is not the proper place to develop scholarly talent."

She had begun to walk again and so I joined her, pretending again to focus my attention on the scroll I carried. She was chuckling softly, shaking her head. Obviously she realized there was truth to my words, though she never confirmed it aloud. Rather, she took the conversational bait I had offered. "Come on, now. You know Konoha is the most advanced of the hidden villages. You couldn't find anywhere better for learning."

Even when deep down I knew she was correct, I couldn't help but scoff at her words. The best place for learning? And to think I had nearly exhausted the supply of knowledge available to me. Certainly there were things awaiting me at the rank of jounin, which I was determined to achieve in short order. Though he thought I wasn't aware, Sarutobi-sensei had already suggested a promotion to the council members. It was only a matter of time before the paperwork was completed. It was extremely satisfying to know that, despite all else, Sarutobi-sensei knew a genius when he saw one.

Still, there were things even a jounin was not allowed to see. Forbidden knowledge known only to the Hokage and perhaps a select few of his most trusted ninja. There was even knowledge unknown to them. Knowledge hidden away in dark vaults, hidden from all eyes. Jutsu that could turn the world on its ear! Things that could only be accomplished by the greatest of geniuses. This was my destiny. I was meant to be the ninja to uncover these secrets, long forgotten, and give them life again. This was my path to becoming the next Hokage and earning renown as the greatest ninja in history. And beyond that, beyond Hokage and renown was the possibility of infinite knowledge. It was a path to learning everything and anything I could ever desire. Never being without study. That was my true dream. Not power or glory, but knowledge. Yet no one ever really understood that.

I must have been silent for longer than I thought, because Tsunade was peering at me quite intently. "You don't think so?"

"Of course I think so." I made no effort to hide my amusement and that must have been the first thing to put her on guard. She knew me well enough to know that amusement was not always the safest of emotions when it came from me. "But how much of that knowledge will I ever see? How much do they keep hidden away where a boy like me, from such a small, insignificant family, would never see it?"

She had begun to look more and more uncertain by the moment, but unlike so many who would have fled long before, she made the effort to delve deeper into my mind. Tsunade had always been the only one willing to see entirely beyond my pallid appearance. She had never taken to crossing the street to avoid me or refusing to look me in the eye like so many others, which was why it was a bit unnerving even for me, to see her discomfort. "What are you getting at, Orochimaru?"

There was no point in delay. Not now that she was already uncomfortable. The only course was to push forward and hope for the best. "Tsunade… You are of Shodai-sama's blood. One would imagine your bloodline would be aware of more, shall we say, private knowledge. Knowledge such as the location of the forbidden scrolls?"

It was a gamble to begin with, this much I knew, yet despite it all, I had not expected her to react as she did. Even before responding, she had put more distance between us, though I doubt she even realized her own actions. What's more, there was something strange in her eyes, a look of uncertainty and fear. Never before had she been afraid of me. She did answer, though, with what I took to be great reluctance. "Even though I am the granddaughter of the Hokage, I… Well, simply put, I don't know where they are."

I wasn't happy with this reply, but there was little I could do the change that. It had been worth a try, even if it had resulted only in failure. Though I had to wonder if I had damaged something more in the process. There was tension between us now that had never been there before. Her pace had quickened slightly and I was forced to alter my own pace to keep up. She noted this with a sidelong glance and eventually responded.

"Ah, Orochimaru… I should probably try to catch up to Jiraiya before he gets himself into trouble. But I'll see you soon! Maybe we can play dice or… something…" He voice trailed off as her pace quickened yet again. She was smiling, yes, but it was as transparent as glass. And as she all but fled form me that day, I couldn't help but wonder if my precious knowledge really was worth such a price.


	4. Chapter 4

I wasn't anticipating updating this fic quite so soon, but after reading the new manga chapter this morning, I was inspired.

I'm still making timeline assumptions, so please forgive if anything is off.

-sor

* * *

Days after the minor incident with Tsunade, I had still heard no repercussions. True, she had been a bit more subdued than usual during our training sessions with Sandaime and while it didn't effect her performance, it still made me feel as if I were trapped on the outside of some fast shrinking circle of camaraderie that I could never be a part of. I caught looks cast my way, not only from Tsunade, but from Sandaime himself. It was difficult to say if he knew more than he let on or if he simply sensed the air of tension between us. He was always a perceptive old coot, after all.

Still, nothing came of it and for a few more days I was left on my own to ponder just how much I might have hurt my own ambitions by attempting to forge ahead. I became less social, if that could be believed, avoiding all contact with my teammates that was not purely business. That particular day, I had taken refuge above the Hokage monument, perched as near the edge of Shodai-sama's carved head as I could manage. I enjoyed being able to be so high above the village. It was still and quiet, away from all the noise that seemed to permeate every inch of Konoha. This was as much a haven for me as my own rooms.

Was it any wonder then, that Sandaime knew where to find me? I must admit, at the time I never gave much thought to hiding away somewhere where I might not be found. It was rare that anyone sought me out so hiding was a pointless strain. But if I'd been thinking that day, I should have expected him to come looking for me. He was always the only one who could sense my moods as accurately as if he felt them himself.

"You're not reading?" He didn't sound quite as surprised as I might have expected, but I said nothing. It was very obvious I wasn't reading. I might have been on any other day, but today my mind was already too full to attempt piling new jutsu on top of the already immense volume of thought. Not to mention, I had only a few scrolls in my possession worth the trouble of reading and I did not wish to waste them.

Sandaime was trying his best, though, so I opted not to reply bitterly. "I'm thinking."

"Ah." He stepped forward, easing himself down at my side and gazing out at the vista just as I was. Only I was no longer watching the village. My gaze was discretely directed towards him, studying him as if his face alone could tell me the reason he had come. But Sandaime was, after all, the Hokage. He was as skilled as any man at hiding his true thoughts behind that mask that leaders so often had to wear. It was not so much indifference, but something kinder. Or, more accurately, Sandaime could appear indifferent without any hint of cruelty. Nothing the man did could ever be termed as cruel, or even hard.

He really had so many people fooled. He was hard as iron and just as unbreakable.

We sat in silence like that for a long while, him studying the village while I studied him. I don't think at any time he was ever unaware of my gaze, but he allowed me all the time I needed to sort through all the thoughts running through my mind. He understood in a way no one else did, my need to analyze everything from a blade of grass to the Hokage of Konohagakure. So many others had no desire to be studied by my eyes and I appreciated his acceptance.

When I was finally through and my gaze had drifted back to the village, he spoke again, recognizing that I was ready to hear him. "You're progress has been exemplary, Orochimaru. I was right all along when I said you were a genius beyond compare."

I enjoyed the praise. How could I not? However, the fact that he had come all the way up here to tell me something I knew already made me increasingly suspicious. By complimenting me, he was attempting to soften whatever blow he was about to deal me. I knew the old trick. It was a ridiculous notion I hardly believed in, the idiocy of saying something positive to soften the negative. I wasn't about to let him think such a device would ever work on me. "And?"

He smiled then. At least he gave me enough respect that he did not attempt to play his little game any longer. "Tsunade seemed out of sorts yesterday. Regarding you." He paused to gauge my reaction, but when I offered nothing but silence, he pressed on. "I questioned her after you had gone home and she was quite reluctant to say…"

When his voice trailed off again, my suspicion peaked. I tore my eyes away from the village and fixed them upon him, though I showed only the slightest hint of curiosity rather than the seething anger that was already beginning to build inside me. If she had betrayed me to him…

"You know those scrolls are forbidden for a reason. The jutsu are dangerous, even in the hands of the brightest boy to pass through this village in generations. Even in the hands of the Hokage himself, such jutsu could very well destroy the village. There are some things that should not ever be learned, Orochimaru."

Without my knowledge, my expression had shifted, hints of that fury beginning to show. There was tension in my face that had not been there before. It was due to this that he made a quick effort to assuage my emotion. "Now, she didn't tell me this to betray you. She was simply worried that you would attempt to use one of these forbidden jutsu and inadvertently harm the village. I'm sure you can understand that."

"I'm not a fool. I realize the danger involved in kinjutsu." It was insulting to think that the pair of them did not trust me enough to realize my intentions were only to increase my own knowledge, not to turn such destruction on the village. I was as loyal a ninja as Tsunade or Jiraiya. As loyal as even Sandaime. "To know something is not always to use it. It has been my goal for some time to know all I can, to learn every jutsu before my limited human life comes to an end. You even said once yourself that it was an admirable goal."

"And it is admirable." His façade seemed to fade a little and I noticed for the first time that Sandaime was beginning to look a bit older. There were fine lines around his eyes and forehead, created by stress no doubt. He even looked tired, though I had never thought he could ever be exhausted. I had to wonder briefly if it was due to me that he had aged so quickly. So rapt had my attention been to those details, I nearly missed when he began to speak again.

"I understand why you wished to know." Sandaime smiled, albeit faintly. "Believe me, Orochimaru, I know your intentions almost as well as you do, which is why I refuse to assume to worst when you make such a request." He caught the change in me, the hope, even before I did and moved to counter it. "That does not mean, however, I'm granting your request. But," he produced a scroll and offered it to me. It was something I had never seen before and after a quick appraisal of its contents, I had determined it held numerous jutsu I had never even heard of, let alone seen.

He laughed a bit at my eager attention to his gift, but did not give me the time to study it as thoroughly as I might have liked. He was demanding my attention again in that calm way of his. "That is only the beginning of the knowledge Konoha is prepared to offer the newest of its jounin."

So I had been right all along. There was knowledge hidden away for the elite of our village. Knowledge I now had complete access to! I did not celebrate, though. I merely smiled, tucking away Sandaime's gift to be studied later when my mind was again not so full. For now, I could only think that perhaps I had been wrong all along. Perhaps Sandaime did value me above Jiraiya, despite my aversion to spending every waking hour in search of new ways to spy on naked women.

And what was more, this promotion was simply another notch in my belt on my way to becoming Hokage. Becoming jounin at the age of twelve would certainly look good on my resume when the time came for Sandaime to retire. That was a gift more valuable even than the scroll. Sandaime had opened a new road into my future, which was looking brighter by the moment where before it had looked so dim.

Despite my subdued reaction, he knew I was pleased. I liked to think he was pleased as well, or even proud. As much as I had always felt he'd played favorites with his three students, it was nice to know that he could still be proud of me. Proud enough to give me this honor before the other two.

Jiraiya would be furious!

That thought alone caused my smile to grow and prompted me to say something I might never have said otherwise. "With even more knowledge to come when I become Hokage. When someday my face is carved here beside yours." It was a comment I would have expected from someone like Jiraiya, prone to bragging loudly and frequently. But wasn't it my due to say such a thing? I, who had been promoted before Jiraiya. Wasn't I due my moment of glory, small as it was?

Much to my surprise, Sandaime didn't attempt to scold me for such a proclamation as he might have done to Jiraiya. He only continued to smile almost affectionately at me as he rose, preparing to leave me again to my thoughts, knowing he'd provided me enough to keep my mind occupied for some time. "I have no doubt it will be."

It was the first time he had ever given me any indication that my dreams were anything more than simply that. Perhaps it had not been wise for him to spark my ambition again, but I think it pleased him to see me light up in such a way. I think, sometimes, Sandaime wanted very badly to please me. It was always such a challenge to do so. But now he had not only achieved his goal, but he had produced in me a new ambition, not far distant from the old. I wanted to become Hokage not only for the reward of knowledge, but because for the first time, Sandaime had finally acknowledged my true power.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to everyone who's been following this fic. It's great to see that so many people have read this. I wasn't expecting it to do well at all due to the relative lack of Orochimaru fans. (A real shame, that!) Thanks to those of you who are helping to spread the word of this to others. We Orochimaru fans have to stick together!

I didn't intend at first for this chapter to turn out so angsty, but you've gotta go where the inspiration takes you. I hope you all enjoy.

Please continue to read and review!

-sor

* * *

Sandaime had been timely in his intervention and thanks to him I found things to occupy myself for years to come. Not only was I granted access to more secret materials, I was also trusted with more important missions that took me farther from Konoha and even into the surrounding countries. True, due to the tensions that existed between villages at the time, even jounin never wandered too far, and never into countries occupied by another village if it could be helped. Yet still with such limits in place, there was the potential now for outside knowledge from exotic places like Suna or Iwa.

Missions, however, provided me with the resources I needed to make use of the team's increased travel. I formed connections with clients, or even with intriguing strangers met along the way, so long as they were men whom I felt had the potential to be of use to me. Usually my new associates were of the crafty sort, smugglers and thieves who knew a little too much about a few too many things. And what they didn't know, they could easily inquire about with their other shady friends. To underestimate the union of thieves throughout the land was foolish indeed, for they have provided me with more loyal service than most Konoha ninja. Money is a strong motivator, and I had more than enough to spend on something so valuable as rare and ancient scrolls.

Things were going well – so well, in fact, that I was beginning to feel a bit spoiled, so just after I turned twenty-two, when the conflict between Konoha and Iwa intensified and I found my supply of jutsu nearly cut off, one can imagine the feelings I developed for Iwa nin. It probably made me one of the best soldiers Konoha had to offer as I battled the enemy with ruthless efficiency. They had stolen something precious from me, after all. But Iwa was fond of such pastimes… stealing precious things from Konoha.

It was in this conflict that Tsunade lost her little brother.

The brat had run off, infused with the same ridiculous notions Jiraiya had always possessed, that he was young and invulnerable. Immortal. The grandson of Shodai-sama and destined to become Hokage. He thought it was impossible that he might die. He thought he would return a hero after having done more against the enemy than even Konoha's finest jounin. He hadn't stood a chance.

I was the one who first followed after him. I'd seen him that morning, feeling invincible as ever, though I wasn't entirely sure just what had brought on this new wave of confidence. Whatever it was, I found it ridiculous that a brat of his age and inexperience should even think himself capable of standing up, even for a moment, to any trained enemy nin. But that was the way the village was turning. The brats were encouraged and coddled. There was never any fear placed into them. They never had to face the reality of what might happen in battle. No one ever told them. Becoming a ninja was simply the thing to do, the dream of the future. So very few considered it for what it truly was, an occupation in which a man risked his life every day and whose only goal was to do his duty. A duty to improve himself constantly for the sake of his village, not for himself.

But Nawaki was just a kid. True, I had been jounin at his age, but I often consider myself the exception to any rule. Exceptional men require exceptional rules, after all.

I had followed after him that day, after contemplating for a time at the gates if I should. There was no clear indication of his intentions, but I knew well enough. He was enough like Jiraiya, minus the perversions, for me to understand his need to prove himself through manly deeds and what better way than through battle? However, I wasn't worried. There had been no sightings of enemy activity for days. True, this didn't mean much, but I allowed it to lull me into a sense of security that was nearly as negligent as Nawaki's own.

I was amused by his eager pace, the way he darted to and fro along the path as if he'd seen something more startling than a bird or squirrel. I scoffed at such childish behavior and allowed my mind to wander. I thought of what I would say to Tsunade when we returned to the village. I would scold her for allowing him out on his own and for allowing such thoughts to run rampant through his head. I would insist she keep closer watch and tell him stories of the men who had died so violently in this war and the many before it. War between hidden villages was not something to be taken lightly.

Yet here I took it lightly and thus I missed the trap just as Nawaki did. I did not take notice until it was too late and the boy had so foolishly triggered it without even the smallest hint of notice. It came as a shock to us both that the rain of shiruken was so dense. I lost sight of him for an instant among the bright flashes of sunlight against metal mingling with the rising clouds of dust from the wounded road. It was only when the dust cleared that I saw the boy again. Had I not been following him not moments before, I would not have known him.

The boy had become little more than a mass of torn flesh and blood. I could not have imagined he might survive such a thing, which was why it came as such a shock to note that his chest still rose and fell, albeit at awkward intervals with far too much stillness between. He was alive, though even I knew well enough it would not last. I had seen my fair share of dying men and after enough war, a man became intuitive about death. I could see clearly the point at which he began to let go and give in, the point he abandoned the will to fight, as happened to all men. There was first denial and fury and eventually sorrow and acceptance. It was a credit to the boy that he was able to reach such a stage on his own.

It was for that reason I went to him as he lay there bleeding out the last torn moments of his life. I pried the shuriken from his back and rolled him over as gently as possible. He gave a small cry, but then lay still again, gazing up at me with a foggy gaze in his eyes: eyes so like Tsunade's. There was recognition there and he tried in vain to speak to me, but the effort only caused his unstable breaths to grow rapid and frantic.

There have been so few times in my life that I have felt utterly lost and without direction. I was a genius. Why should I have so much trouble dealing with a dying boy? He wanted to speak to me but couldn't, so what then was I to do? Speak to him? Offer false hope and reassurances that everything would be fine? Why do such a cruel thing to the boy? I could only hope to watch over him until he breathed his last breaths and then return him to the village. That was the proper thing to do. Protocol called for such things.

Still, it was instinct that drove me to place a hand atop his bloodied chest, only to feel the terrible rhythm of his heartbeat, erratic and weak. Only then did I notice his small hand clenched tightly against his chest, using every last once of his strength to protect something that hung around his neck. I carefully pried his fingers away and he did not fight me. He allowed it, making a hollow, sick sound at the back of his throat when I finally saw what it was.

Shodai-sama's necklace. The very necklace that Tsunade had always treasured so. That necklace was a symbol known by every ninja in the village. Tsunade had worn it to honor her grandfather and carry on his spirit. There were those who insisted that with Shodai-sama's spirit came the will to protect and lead Konoha, the will of fire that was found in every man who had ever loved the village, who had ever become Hokage. Of course, Tsunade had laughed them off, insisting she had no desire to follow in her grandfather's footsteps. Becoming Hokage was not her path.

If she had given such a symbol to her foolish little brother it could only mean she wished to pass the will of fire on to him. She had believed in his foolish dreams of becoming Hokage. I knew even then it was foolish to think such a thing, but it struck me quite firmly that she had never really believed in my ambitions. Yet she encouraged them in her fool of a brother, who was no more ready to have such ambitions than a fish was to fly. There was no place for bitterness now, though. He was looking my way again with those same honey colored eyes.

I have never been one to understand the finer points of human communication, but I understood then exactly what he wanted. "Of course. I will see it safely to Tsunade."

My words seemed to ease his pain and Nawaki smiled up at me for an instant, pouring the last of himself into that tender gesture of thanks. And that was the end of it. I saw to the safety of his body, as it struggled through those last few moments, concealing him expertly in a matter of minutes. True, I could have returned immediately to the village, but there was a final duty I had to tend to on the boy's behalf. I hunted down the men who had set the trap and slaughtered them to the last man. It was a message to Iwa. Konoha did not take such things lightly.

When I returned to Nawaki, I found him in the company of a trio of Konoha ninja, all of whom looked, to various degrees, as if they would be sick. The boy still breathed very faintly then, but there was no medic among them. Not a soul was equipped with even the faintest knowledge of what to do.

Nawaki died there nestled in a bed of leaves, a blanket of gold and red.

It wasn't until evening that I saw Tsunade as she rushed into the darkened halls of the hospital. The doctors hadn't spent more than a few moments with the boy. What would be the point? There was nothing that could be done. I couldn't bring myself to care, in any case. My focus was again on the small stone clutched in my fist, hidden behind the flaps of my tunic. Perhaps it was only due to my own selfish, bitter feelings that I spoke so harshly to Tsunade. Or perhaps it was only because it was my negligence that had caused her such pain.

I didn't understand pain. Not pain of that kind, in any case. I had never mourned my mother or father. Certainly I had been sorry to loose them to some degree, but I'd been long prepared for the coming of their deaths. I couldn't understand the shock that had paralyzed Tsunade, nor could I understand why Jiraiya thought me so cruel for only being honest.

I kept my word to Nawaki and saw the necklace safely back to Tsunade. She said nothing of it, though and I left things as they were between us. I let her be. Even I had instinct enough to know she would have rather killed me than spoken to me.

It was nearly a week later that she came to me. It is amazing that a man like myself, whose memory is second to none, cannot recall the details of the words we shared that day. I suppose I told her what had occurred and that the men responsible were dead. Or I told her how long Nawaki had held on. I only recall that things were better between us once all was said and done. Better, but not the same.

Things were never the same again.

We three did not know it at the time, but this was the first crack in the close bond we had developed. Tsunade became obsessed, pouring her heart and soul into her medical studies, leaving Jiraiya and I to complete missions on our own. She never joined us again in the field, the first of the legendary sannin to break away.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello again everyone. I'm pleased to see you're all still enjoying the story. Not much to say here other than the usual and a quick response to my reviews. There was a comment the other day about Yondaime (whom they really need to give a name) and Anko. While I've always planned to include both in the story (in fact, this chapter includes Yondaime's introduction) I don't have any plans for interaction between them. Their age difference is too vast, I think, for anything interesting to happen before Yondaime dies. Anko is two years younger than Kakashi, who we can approximate is about ten years younger than Yondaime, if not more. Since we were never given an age for Yondaime, it makes things difficult.

Which, of course, brings me back to my fudging of the timeline. All ages and times are simply my own best guesses and shouldn't be taken as cannon. And speaking of cannon, I'm probably going to hold off on my Anko chapters until the current filler arc concludes. While I don't tend to consider filler as an official part of the timeline, since as far as we all know, Kishi hasn't really had any input in the storylines, I want to see how this Anko arc unfolds before I start to include her. So if this arc goes on too long, there might be a bit of a break in the fic. Hopefully not, though.

Ok, so I did have a lot to say. Please continue to enjoy. Please read and review.

-sor

* * *

Things returned to normal more quickly than I might have expected and as the months grew warmer our conflict with Iwagakure grew less heated. True, there were still scattered confrontations, but they were minor and few lives were lost in the process. For that reason, life in Konoha was much as it had been when I was young. Missions were more common but they were simplistic so it was not unusual to find a ninja within the walls of the village more often than out. Most took advantage of this and indulged in unseemly amounts of leisure time, Jiraiya included. I allowed him to drag me to a few bars every now and again, but I preferred to put my time to better use now that I had it. 

Finding solitude in Konoha was a challenge at times, especially during those first few months of quasi peace. Plus, given the overall jovial mood that had saturated the village ever since the Academy graduation, there was hardly a meter that wasn't occupied by one screaming brat or another. Those children were running about here and there celebrating their good fortune, calling themselves ninja when really they were nothing more than trained monkeys who were capable of only a few tricks. One did not become a ninja simply by getting good grades on his report card.

I had taken refuge on the rooftops, which most of the brats neglected to notice. They were more obsessed with running like fools through the streets with their forehead protectors on so that everyone they met would know they were ninja now. Ridiculous.

There was a trio below me, unaware of my presence where I rested on the roof, just above the benches the three were perched on, one yellow haired brat hanging upside down from the armrest like the monkey he was. They were loud, too. The yellow haired one was laughing like an idiot as he dangled, taunting his darker teammate, who stood scowling at him unhappily.

Did they make all the teams alike? Did every team have to have a Jiraiya?

I scoffed at them, resolving to ignore their bickering. I had retreated to the rooftops, after all, to pursue quiet study and I refused to let some noisy children disrupt my most important pursuit of knowledge. I had recently acquired a pair of new scrolls; ancient jutsu rarely put into practice any longer, but still useful. Enemies never expected one to use archaic jutsu. My sources had become increasingly productive since the lull in conflict and as of late I had been almost overwhelmed by their successes. So much so, that I had dismissed a few, finding no need to empty my pockets when only a handful of men would do.

When I say that I dismissed these men, I do not mean only that I thanked them for their services and sent them on their way. I mean that after their dismissal, they did not make it back to their villages of origin.

In any case, luck was not on my side that day as the monkey brat started shouting again. I could hear him clearly, even from such a distance. Some nonsense about becoming Hokage someday. That was a laugh! There was only one man in Konoha suited to following Sarutobi-sensei and that was not some yellow headed monkey child.

The brat's laughter was echoed from behind me, but I didn't turn. I had heard Jiraiya approach, but hadn't done him the courtesy of a greeting. He never seemed to need one anyway. It only amused him more when I ignored him, I think, so I was perfectly content to give him what he wanted.

His huge shadow fell across the scroll I had been attempting to read and a moment later his face was hovering just over my shoulder, so close that I instinctively shied away a few inches. The big oaf had no respect for personal space. I cast an unhappy glare over my shoulder at him, but as the expression wasn't something he wished to acknowledge, he didn't seem to notice it at all. "Studying again? And what is all this? These jutsu haven't been used in generations."

Before he could poke his nose any further into my studies, I rolled the scroll up and set it aside. "Every jutsu has its uses. It takes a very dense mind not to understand such a concept."

Jiraiya only laughed at that before dropping into a crouch at my side by the roof's edge. His eyes were focused on the monkey child, which came as no surprise to me. Ten years prior, Jiraiya would have been doing the same nonsense while pestering me to join him in such an undignified position. Or, more likely, attempting to get a look up Tsunade's skirt. Her chest had still been quite flat at the time; otherwise he might have been climbing trees in order to peer down her blouse.

There were no such thoughts on his mind now, though, or at least they were pushed to the side for the moment. I was never fool enough to think that perversion was very far from his mind. But for now, he was grinning like the idiot he was at those annoying kids. "Yours, I would assume?"

"That's right." He was laughing again, probably because little monkey had toppled from the back of the bench, landing in an undignified heap on the grass. I, on the other hand, was not amused. Jiraiya never took his eyes off the brats, but he spoke again to me. "I don't get why you didn't want to take a team. You're a smart guy. Coulda taught kids."

The thought of myself instructing a team of genin nearly made me laugh. I hated children. Even when I was a child myself, I'd hated children. Sandaime knew this and so he hadn't pushed me like some others had, though he did drag me along a few weeks before graduation to watch the runts train. He'd called them the most impressive group to come out of the academy since Jiraiya, Tsunade, and I. My first reaction was to think he'd begun to go senile at an early age. I was unimpressed by the lot of them. Certainly they could perform ninjutsu as well as any child, but there was nothing extraordinary.

Sandaime had told me my standards were set too high. Perhaps he was right, but I would rather have high standards than breed a village of weaklings. That was yet another part of the reason I refused to take on a team. I knew myself well enough to know that I would constantly be comparing them to myself and they would never measure up to the example I would have set. By the time I was their age, I was already leading my team on missions, not scampering about in the grass, proud of my ability to perform a perfect henge.

I dismissed Jiraiya's words with a curt wave of my hand. "I would have killed them in the first moment." I gave a slight gesture towards the monkey. "That one most especially."

"That one?" He hadn't taken his eyes off of the brat. "I like him. He reminds me of somebody pretty talented." As if to unintentionally punctuate the statement, the monkey brat toppled from the top of the bench again.

Again, I was not amused. Or rather, I was not amused by the boy's antics. I was, however, most amused by Jiraiya's attempt at complimenting himself. "One would imagine such a comparison would have you more worried. Or do you plan to teach him only to spy on the ladies' hot springs?" What was meant as an insult was taken as a compliment, though I expected no different from him. I had long since stopped being disgusted with Jiraiya. There was no cure for him. So long as his lechery did not interfere with my studies, he and I could exist in the same space, even work together, though I noted with what was perhaps a hint of sadness that our days as teammates were ended. Jiraiya had his team now.

A frightening thought, that. Jiraiya in charge of molding the minds of impressionable young children. Perhaps the monkey would enjoy his teachings, but the other two, I honestly pitied. They seemed like normal children. How could they guess that they would soon be in the hands of a pervert?

"Ah, maybe," I could practically see the wheels in Jiraiya's head turning, albeit at a very slow pace. "If he shows a talent for it, there's no harm in letting him tag along."

"No harm?" I even chuckled at that, though it was little more than a few soft breaths. I didn't even bother to grace that thought with further comment. But, perhaps Jiraiya was right. The boy already looked practically brain damaged. There was little more that could harm him. Rather than pursue such thoughts, though, I shifted the conversation away from Jiraiya's favorite pastime. "How long do you plan to keep them waiting?"

"Just long enough to be sure they're eager to play." He shifted slightly, one hand slipping into the pocket of his jacket. When I glanced his way again, he opened his fist, allowing a pair of bells to drop from his fingers where they hung, jingling softly on their strings. If I thought it possible, I would have said his grin had expanded another mile.

Even I had to smile. "Ah, I see. Be careful, Jiraiya-kun. Sarutobi-sensei won't be there to untie you this time."

As always, when I showed a hint of humor, it seemed to lift the fool's spirits far too much and this time it prompted him to give me one of those firm pats on the back I have always detested. He never seemed to notice my aversion to his touch. Sadly, I was far too used to it. "I have a bet with Tsunade over which will get the log. You interested?"

Leave it to Tsunade to turn everything into a bet. How ridiculous. "No, I am not interested. Though I would predict the little monkey brat."

Jiraiya didn't respond to my insult against his student, but he did grin a bit more, tucking the bells safely back into his pocket. "She chose him, too." His smile did falter for a moment, though, as he contemplated his bet. "Mind loaning me some cash to pay her off?"

At first I thought he was joking, but when he didn't laugh at his own joke, I found he was quite serious. "You shouldn't make bets with her that you cannot pay. If I keep helping you, I may as well make the bets for you."

"Not a bad idea." He grinned that grin that told me he was up to something and held out his hand as if he fully expected me to place money in it with no further argument. I had stopped paying off his debts years ago, when I'd discovered he had a weakness for sake and I did not intend to make it a habit again.

Rather than further indulge him, I gave his hand a shove before turning my attention back to the brats. "They're becoming impatient, Jiraiya. Perhaps you should stop begging for money and attend your duties." Indeed, the brat had gone from toppling from the bench to climbing on the adjacent stone wall, which was far too high for a boy his size. "Look, he'll break his head if you don't watch over him."

That boy was a disaster. Worthless in every way.

"He won't break anything." Jiraiya waved off my concern dismissively. "Kids are tough. They fall down all the time."

"Yes, but most of them don't do it on purpose," I commented, watching the boy take another fall from the wall, managing a sloppy little summersault in the middle of his descent. This one was showing off for the rest of his team. I was surprised I hadn't noticed sooner. Jiraiya had always pulled the same stunts when he had Tsunade for an audience.

"Ah, see. I told you he was talented!" It was just like Jiraiya to find such a trait favorable. Those two were made for one another. Let them enjoy it before they managed to get each other killed, most likely by a riot of women outside the bath house.

"Strange talents," I replied. The boy had remained sprawled in the grass for a moment, laughing at something only he seemed to find funny. "However, I think I have discovered a technique I would not bother to learn." I could survive without perfecting the fine art of showing off for girls.

"I always knew your priorities were screwed up." Jiraiya rose then, at long last, giving the trio of children one final appraising glance. It was strange to see him like this. Never once before had I ever seen the man look quite so responsible. It was a word I had never thought to use in conjunction with Jiraiya before, but it seemed to fit him well now. He looked down at those children like they had already mastered every possible jutsu in the world when really they were nothing more than worthless little puppets who may grow someday into decent ninja. Whatever affection Jiraiya had for them was pointless and yet I found myself almost jealous of him. Why? I couldn't be sure. Perhaps it was something so simple as knowing that no matter what idiotic things he said, those brats would always look up to him.

"Enjoy yourself, Jiraiya-sensei." I was sure to add a bit more sarcasm to that brand new title of his. Sensei. Ridiculous.

"You should come watch if you ever get bored with that stupid studying. It's bound to be an interesting test." With a final wave, given as an after thought, Jiraiya vanished from the roof, or at least to the naked eye it would seem that way. I could observe the movement, however, fast as it was, and I tracked it down to the stone wall where he appeared again, squatting along the top just above the spot in the grass where the monkey brat lay.

The boy scrambled to his feet, nothing but smiles despite the fact that he should have been embarrassed to be caught in such an ungraceful posture. He didn't seem to mind making a fool out of himself. Neither did Jiraiya. It was then that I feared for Konoha, especially after the brat said something that sent Jiraiya into a fit of laughter.

Had I wanted to, I could have slipped closer undetected, even by Jiraiya, and observed their conversations, which no doubt consisted of nothing more than discussion of 'super cool' jutsu and Tsunade's breasts. I was content, though, to observe from a safe distance. Once, I saw Jiraiya glance my way, grinning like a fool, in an attempt to no doubt sway me into accepting a team of my own.

Never in all my years would I do such a ridiculous thing!

But I did observe the test that day, despite my better judgment. Jiraiya surprised me. He was, and I thought such a thing with all the reluctance in the world, good with the children and they were responsive, even if they were loud and thoughtless. Retrieving a bell from Sarutobi-sensei had posed no real challenge for me, but it seemed as if Jiraiya kept the kids on their toes. Good for him. Though it could just as easily have been a sign of the lack of skill on his team.

The monkey brat got the log, just as I'd expected.

And just as I'd expected, I paid off half of Jiraiya's debt to Tsunade, mostly to prevent her from making it impossible for him to ever enjoy a cup of sake again. He attempted to thank me by dragging me to some club. Something with half dressed women doing nothing productive with their lives. Enjoyable as the view was, it was nothing more than another added disruption in my work. I left after the first hour. Jiraiya, trapped in a haze of smoke and sake, didn't even notice.


	7. Chapter 7

We're starting to enter heavy spoiler territory with this chapter. I say starting because there are only a few hints here as to what we're learning in the most recent manga chapters (292 currently). So if you're a reader and you're not up to date with the very latest manga chapters, then read with caution. Spoilers abound in the coming chapters.

Otherwise, please continue to read and review. I value your feedback and look forward to hearing more.

-sor

* * *

There's an old saying that dictates time passes quickly when one is happy and though I had never admitted, even to myself that I was particularly happy, I cannot argue that time did indeed pass quickly. Perhaps it felt this way because by in large, Konoha remained unchanged, at least fundamentally. True, Tsunade had left us years ago, taking with her that Shizune girl. No one spoke of her often and I think I came to prefer it that way. She and I had only begun to drift further apart as time wore on and I had been almost glad to see her go. It meant I would no longer have to deal with her disapproving glances.

Still, it was a shame to lose her. She was the last of Shodai-sama's line and she carried with her a strong bloodline that would likely be lost with her. It would have been a boon to Konoha had she bothered to reproduce, at least in order to pass on the abilities unique to her line. But perhaps there were other ways to preserve the blood that founded our village.

As the years passed I began to notice all those little things that one doesn't pick up on as they occur. Only after so much time had passed did I notice that Sandaime had developed more pronounced lines in his face. Somehow in the midst off all those years he had slipped into middle age and I was well past thirty. In fact, I was nearer to forty than I would have liked to admit.

It was then that I began to look back on my life and wonder what was it I had truly accomplished. What kind of mark had I left on Konoha? What had I done that would make me remembered long after I lay dead? Remembered like men remembered Shodai-sama and Nidaime. There was nothing.

What was it I had always told Jiraiya? _Knowledge is infinite, but a human life is not._

It was as if a sudden weight had fallen heavily upon my shoulders. I was past my prime. I had wasted the best years of my life being content only with the scraps I was able to obtain through Sarutobi-sensei or through what scrolls I could find. There was knowledge in this world not contained in any scroll and what had I done to pursue it? What a waste of my genius! It was then, in my thirty-sixth year, that I became discontent once more. It was as if I could hear the ticking of the clock with every step I took. I could feel every moment of my life slipping away as every moment I grew older and more worthless. At thirty-six, I felt fifty. All my ambition had been wasted on dreams of attaining rank and with rank, knowledge. All those dreams of becoming Hokage and opening my eyes to all matter of forbidden knowledge became a vast chasm of nothingness. All my dreams had become worthless, just as I had. A bitter man, old before his time.

Years that had seemed to pass pleasantly before seemed more and more now an endless cycle of monotony. Every year came a new batch of genin and every year Jiraiya urged me to train a team, even after his own team had grown and left him behind. Even after his stupid monkey brat had a team of his own. But still, I had no desire to waste my time on a team of misfit children, especially now when I could practically feel the passage of time reverberating through my bones with every tick of the clock. I had let time slip away and it was painfully clear to me now, especially when I looked at Jiraiya's brat, whom had seemed only yesterday to be toppling from stone walls in a vain attempt to impress a girl.

I was the only one who still thought of him as a stupid brat. They called him the Yellow Flash now and the village took more than their fair share of delight from watching him grow. Sandaime was quite impressed with the boy, but that came as no surprise. Even I had to admit, stupid brat that he was, our beloved Yellow Flash had become much more impressive than I might have ever guessed. He had managed to learn Jiraiya's Rasengan with what passed for little difficulty. He had even developed a technique of his own: Shunshin no jutsu, an instant teleportation that allowed him to cross any distance in an instant. Hence the moniker Yellow Flash.

Of course, all of this only left me more embittered. Certainly I had created jutsu of my own, but they were minor and nothing quite so attention grabbing as Shunshin or Rasengan. My jutsu had always been practical, made for a specific use, but Jiraiya was still the show off he'd always been and that damn Rasengan of his was a perfect example of that. It was flashy and showy and the village absolutely adored a good show. It was qualities like that he passed on to his student. The more visually impressive one was, the more popular he would become and I had never been visually impressive, despite my unrivaled genius.

As things turned out, in what seemed the exact moment my ambition of becoming Hokage waned, Sandaime announced his eminent retirement. He said he'd been Hokage for far too long now and it was time to pass his duties on to someone younger and more capable. So it finally seemed as if after waiting so many years, I would finally get the acknowledgement that I so richly deserved.

But, Sarutobi-sensei thought I was unfit to follow him as Hokage. I should have seen such an insult coming, but I was blinded by some ridiculous sense of affection for the man whom I had called master. What a fool I had been to think that anyone in this backwards little village could ever understand what true strength was? They did not know half of what I was capable of and yet only half my effort would be enough to best Jiraiya's monkey brat with the very tip of my little finger.

And they named that brat Yondaime. That little brat who was nothing more than a less distracted version of Jiraiya. A brat that shared the perverted tendencies of his demented sensei. What kind of man was he to be given such power? Konoha had gone mad!

When the news was announced, I said nothing. I allowed the fools to celebrate and congratulate the boy, though I could not help but notice how Sarutobi-sensei avoided my gaze as if a mere glance would kill him. Perhaps his fear was grounded in reality, for I do not think anyone could have looked into my gaze that night and lived to tell of it.

Anyone, that is, except Jiraiya.

Jiraiya was the only one brave enough to seek me out after I had fled the crowds. He approached me not long after I had taken my perch at the edge of the Hokage monument, my feet balanced on the outermost edge of Sandaime's sculpted head. Perhaps subconsciously it felt nice to be able to tread upon him. He who had betrayed me.

I could feel the slight shift in the air that told me I was no longer alone. Jiraiya was making no attempt to hide his presence, though he said nothing for some time, merely hovering behind me as if he were afraid to draw nearer or to turn away. Finally, unable to stand the silence myself, I spoke. "Shouldn't you be elsewhere congratulating your brat?"

"We'll have our own fun later once all the old geezers have gone to bed. Not a good idea to talk about things like that in front of them. Might be bad for their hearts." There was nothing in his voice to indicate he felt even an ounce of the tension in the air, but I on the other hand felt nearly overwhelmed by it. It was heavy and suffocating, hardly even altered by Jiraiya's poor attempt at humor.

"I do hope you enjoy yourselves. It will be a pleasant memory for you to cling to once he is gone." I made the threat purposefully ambiguous. I was certainly a better ninja than Jiraiya, but I did not wish to test that theory in a real conflict. I had never been on the receiving end of Rasengan and it was not a pleasure I wished to have.

Despite popular opinion, Jiraiya was no fool, and he did not miss the underlying threat against his student. As often as he indulged my moods, I sensed he wasn't going to let such a thing go so easily. Still, he didn't respond right away, letting that heavy silence grow thicker between us. When he finally did speak, any hint of the good cheer he'd shown earlier in the evening was gone. "What did you expect to happen?"

"You know very well what I expected. I expected to be granted my hard earned due."

"Your due?" There was a fragment of the usual humor there for an instant. "You and I both know you only wanted it to gain access to the forbidden scrolls. That and to validate your high opinion of yourself." Never had Jiraiya been so harsh with me, though I am certain he thought such things more than once and only been too afraid to voice it. I learned later that there had been many things Jiraiya had kept hidden from me all those years. Conversations shared with Sandaime regarding my mental stability, of all things. And if not that, they discussed my ruthless ambition and their baseless worries that I would cause harm to the village. Traitors.

"My opinion of myself needs no validation, especially not from you, Jiraiya. My strength is not questionable, nor is my capacity for knowledge. Both are qualities found in abundance in a proper Hokage. Your brat is hardly more than twenty and lacking in more ways than one." I had the upper hand in the argument. Of that I was certain. There was no way Jiraiya could argue against pure fact.

"You're the only one who thinks so." I heard his heavy footfalls as he stepped closer, finally coming to a stop at my side, quite the brave move when, given my current mood, I was just as likely to push him over the edge as I was to welcome him. "So the only thing to do now is get over it. Or do you intend to keep pouting like a child?"

To be called childish by a man such as Jiraiya set my blood to boiling. If it would not have been a confirmation of his words, I would have struck him then. I remained still, though, only imagining the many ways I could deal him harm. I chose, though to do harm in the safest possible way: verbally. "Ambition does not vanish when it strikes a roadblock. If I were to become complacent now, I would hardly be able to call myself a ninja. Besides, only time will tell if the monkey brat will serve us well. I predict Sandaime will come to regret making such an… uninformed decision. A decision based on favoritism shared between perverts."

"Now that's going too far, Orochimaru…" I wasn't exactly sure if he defended Sarutobi or their shared perversions. Both seemed equally likely.

"Is it?" The laughter that followed my question caused him discomfort. I could tell by the way he cast that sidelong glance my way and by the way his brow creased. He was considering how far he wished to push me. Good. Let him worry over it until he made himself sick.

He found his courage soon enough, though. "He was Sandaime's choice. That's the end of it. You shouldn't question him. He is still stronger than you. And so is Yondaime."

When Jiraiya called that brat Yondaime, it shattered whatever sense of friendship I still might have held for the man that evening. He sensed it too and I could sense in him that he was fully prepared for an explosion. Perhaps he didn't know me quite as well as he thought. I didn't explode. I didn't even show the barest hint of anger. I only nodded and addressed him in a tone one might use when indulging a child in his silly games of make believe. "Of course."

I was only paying half a mind to Jiraiya at that point, having convinced myself that no amount of talk would close the vast rift opening between us. I also found that I was not the least bit bothered by that fact. I had no desire to rekindle whatever bond of camaraderie he and I had shared as children.

It was then, for the first time in my long career as a ninja, that I entertained the thought of taking on my own students. I had seen clearly the bonds of loyalty that had formed between Sandaime and Jiraiya and where it led them, to the promotion of Jiraiya's best student. And I saw how vehemently Jiraiya defended Sandaime. The young cub protecting its aging father.

I longed for loyalty like that. Certainly I could find some young monster willing to fight and die all for my ambition. Some brat I could mold into my own distinct vision of strength. Someone to work at my side towards achieving my goals.

Someone stronger than Jiraiya's monkey brat.

It was later in that year that Yakushi Kabuto came to Konoha, the brooding, bitter child of a fallen enemy. Never doubt that I have a keen eye for talent.


	8. Chapter 8

Remember what I said a few weeks ago about waiting to see how the filler arc featuring Anko turned out? Well cancel that. Since the fillers seem to have obvious difficulty keeping their timelines straight, I've decided to go with my original plan and completely ignore them. So when Anko does come into the story (which will be soon, I promise!) don't expect to hear anything about the Ocean Country or some lame fish girl.

But for now I give you chapter 8, featuring our other favorite student, Yakushi Kabuto. Kabuto timeline isnot cannon. Enjoy and please review. I enjoy getting feedback, be it positive or negitive.

-sor

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Yakushi Kabuto was a slight child and at nearly seven years old he might have been mistaken for five. His one saving grace was his eyes; eyes that betrayed a maturity far beyond his years. His father attributed it to trauma from the war, but I knew the first time I saw the boy that it was more than that. He was analytical and studious, just as I had been, though I would never go so far as to say the boy reminded me of myself. He smiled far too often for such a comparison to be apt. But it was the cunning behind his smile that I recognized as so similar to my own. This boy was a perfect match to my needs.

The common perception of the boy was not appreciative. Though his father, one of our most accomplished medical nin, insisted that the boy remembered nothing of his life elsewhere, most were dubious where he was concerned. Children did not play with him, though Kabuto did not seem to mind; he was not a boy who played in the manner of normal children. Certainly, like many boys, he enjoyed the same hobbies such as pulling the wings off of flies and the legs off of beetles so he could watch the wounded insect squirm. He also very much enjoyed casting those injured insects into spider webs, where he would watch in rapt fascination as the spider calculated its attack, entrapped the insect, and finally devoured it.

Above and beyond all this, however, was the one thing that held my attention. The boy had an impressive amount of chakra and was unusually strong for a mere child. Even then, I thought him comparable to that Hatake boy that Yondaime praised so frequently. No one else paid him enough mind to notice it, a fact which I was endlessly pleased with. In fact, the only man in the entire village who paid him any mind at all was his foster father, who trained the boy quite thoroughly in the art of medical jutsu, a field in which I, admittedly, am lacking.

I first encountered the boy face to face a few months after I had begun my observation. Ever since my less than enthusiastic reception for Yondaime, it seemed I had been delegated more than my share of solo missions. The village was hardly lacking in highly talented ninja, yet it always seemed to be me they turned to. I was not sure if they truly had need of my strength, or if they were merely attempting to keep me out of the village as often as possible so that they might avoid my wrath. Jiraiya did not tend to nearly so many missions. In fact, he had spent more time as of late on those ridiculous books of his, a pointless enterprise that nonetheless seemed to be encouraged by Yondaime.

It was mid-afternoon when I returned from my latest mission. This one had not been a total loss, however, as I was able to procure a few rare scrolls from one of my most cunning associates, a young man who had a rare talent for acquiring valuable, secret knowledge. Indeed, this time he had truly discovered a treasure, a collection of most dangerous kinjutsu, including a few very handy techniques that I planned on putting to full use.

I was absorbed in this scroll when I first sensed it, an unusual presence lurking in the underbrush to the left of my currant path. Whoever it was was under the impression that he could evade me simply by avoiding my eyes, which had been until that point focused on my reading. Some sneak in the bushes didn't concern me so much, however. It was only a mild annoyance and I brushed it off with a sigh, rolling my scroll and slipping it into one of the pockets on my vest. "You can continue your futile efforts at stealth, but I can assure you such effort would be wasted."

There was no reply at first, but a few moments later the bushes rustled in earnest and a boy stepped out into the path, looking absolutely furious at having been discovered. This changed, however, when I showed no interest whatsoever for his attempt at hiding. Rather, I was quite interested in what a brilliant stroke of luck this was. An opportunity to speak with Yakushi Kabuto without risk of arousing suspicion from men who already watched me far too closely.

"Kabuto-kun. You're far from home."

My somewhat friendly tone did not fool the boy and such a thing pleased me immensely. He was no fool. He was, however, an admirable liar. His lip quivered as if he were on the verge of tears and his voice was suitably upset. "I got lost. I was out in the woods looking for bugs and I can't find my way back."

It was a lie. It takes a talented liar to spot that trait in another. It also takes a talented liar to know when his lies are ineffectual. It only took the boy a moment to realize I had not been taken in by simple crocodile tears and they faded as quickly as they had come as he crossed his arms, regarding me with an unhappy scowl. "You're Orochimaru-sama, aren't you?"

"Indeed I am." I had been absent so often from the village it was a wonder the brat recognized me. "And you are not lost. So why are you so far from the village?"

Kabuto maintained his angry pout, though the effect was somewhat diminished when he was forced to lift one hand to push his glasses back up his nose. Even that small motion made him seem less cold, less threatening. I wasn't sure if he'd done it for that express purpose, but I took note of the result. "It would only incriminate me if I answered you, so I'd rather not."

He surprised me with such an answer and I could not help but chuckle. The boy was certainly much more than the village gave him credit for. I found myself being more friendly with this child than I have had been with anyone in quite some time. It might have pleased Jiraiya very much to know I was smiling again, much as I had in our youth, though this time my reasons were entirely different. "Would you allow me to guess?"

He looked terribly unsure of me in that moment and I could hardly blame him. It was not easy to feel at ease when caught in the gaze of a predator. So, it was admirable when he lifted his chin slightly and gave a small nod.

It felt strange to smile so readily as I squatted down in front of him, putting myself on his level so that I could examine his expressions more closely. "Judging by your incriminating behavior at the roadside, I suppose you did not wish to be found, so you can hardly claim to be lost." His eyebrows creased a bit in response, giving me the indication that I assumed correctly. "And judging by your distance from the village and your proximity to the road, one could guess you have been traveling."

His scowl only encouraged me. So I rose again and stepped towards the place he had emerged from the underbrush, searching for a moment until I found it, just as I had suspected. "And I would suppose, given the placement of this bag of supplies, that you did not intend to return."

His small face had contorted in anger by that time, but I could only laugh all the more when his tiny fists clenched as if he were prepared to strike me. He was brave. I liked that, as well. I plucked the bag out of the brush and handed it to him, giving his hair an almost affectionate pat as I did so. I even surprised myself with such a gesture. Why in the world was I already so fond of this brat?

With my hand still on his head, I guided him back off the road, putting enough distance between ourselves and the chance of meeting another traveler that I could feel safe and he could feel less defensive. Once I was satisfied, I sat down in the grass and after a moment's hesitation, Kabuto did the same. Already he felt comfortable enough with me.

I believe Kabuto sensed in me an ally from the very start, otherwise he would not have trusted me so freely. The boy had always possessed a keen intuition and such was a trait that served me well for years.

"Tell me, Kabuto-kun. Why are you running away? Surely you did not think your father would not send someone to find you… with all those medical jutsu floating around in your head."

Kabuto's face twisted into an expression somewhere between fury and surprise, but he schooled it into neutrality with admirable swiftness. It had never crossed his mind that he may be pursued for any reason other than his father's affections. Despite surprise, he answered quickly. "He's not my father, you know."

"Of course, forgive me. Your foster father."

He seemed no more pleased by that title, though he said nothing of it, deeming it pointless to argue such a trivial point. "And it doesn't much matter if he follows me. I don't intend to be found. I left a trail leading in the other direction before I traced my steps back this way. He'll only find a dead end."

"Very clever, Kabuto-kun." I did not bother to tell him that no jounin of his father's level would ever fall for such a simple trick. I needed the boy on my side rather than suffering from the sting of insult. "But that does not answer my question. Why are you running away?"

I had never in my life seen a child make such a serious expression, but then I had already begun to think of Kabuto as more than merely a child. There was something more in him, more than even his uncanny intelligence or his immense chakra. "I would rather not say. It would only incriminate me."

So it seemed he was not so trusting as I had first hoped. Still, it should be no difficult task to get the boy to open up. He and I had certain things in common, after all and I had my theories. "You have already incriminated yourself, Kabuto-kun. But you have no reason to worry. I have no intention of forcing you to return if that is not your wish." I paused, watching as the boy perked up curiously. I had captured his full attention at last, which was what I needed if I were to convince him of my sincerity.

"However, I wonder what you will do on your own. Do you not intend to become a ninja? A boy with your potential?"

Kabuto smiled to himself when he heard my praise and for a moment he forgot his determination to be secretive. "Of course I want to be a ninja. But I can do that elsewhere."

"Certainly you could." Kabuto had sincerely impressed me when we first began to converse, but as our conversation wore on, I began to wonder if the boy was really so bright as I gave him credit for. When I had been his age, I was already studying difficult kinjutsu and planning my own future. Kabuto had not even bothered to fully plan his own escape.

"Though I wonder who would teach you. Who out there in the world could even hope to instruct you so thoroughly as you could be taught in Konoha? Who in the world can even compare to being the student of one of the Legendary Sannin?"

That peaked his attention for the last time and from that moment on, Kabuto was enthralled by the possibility of receiving such training as I could give him. He even seemed to forget that such training would require his return to Konoha. "You would train me, Orochimaru-sama?"

"I would consider it." He did not seem to realize there was a catch to my consideration. In fact, I could see by the far off look in his eyes that he had already begun to think ahead, no doubt dreaming those wonderful dreams of power and strength that every ambitious young ninja dreamed at least once in his life. Even those who claimed to hold to a higher principle at one time had such dreams. Even that high and mighty Yondaime himself.

Kabuto, though, considered these ambitions in a different manner from most boys. His expression was thoughtful and he only allowed a faint grin, giving no hints to the exact nature of his thoughts. He was subtle in movement in such a way that it was easy to imagine he was only thinking of what game he might like to play when his journey was over rather than how many lives he could destroy with only the simple desire to do so. Over time I learned to read Kabuto more clearly, but at first his innermost thoughts were a mystery even to me.

"Only consider it?" He spoke unexpectedly, peering at me over the rim of his glasses for a moment before pushing them back into place. "I won't go back just to have you refuse me. I want a guarantee."

"Do you?" Such a demanding boy he was in those first few months I knew him. It is hard to imagine such a thing now, when he is the most loyal man I have, the only soldier under my command who never demands a thing from me. "Well, I suppose that's fair enough. I will offer you a deal."

He canted his head to the side and examined me in much the way a young lion examines its first kill. Such an expression gave me chills. "Any training you receive from me must be done in the utmost secrecy. If at any moment you reveal our work to anyone, I will never lift a finger to give you aid again." The request was simple enough and a good start, as Kabuto surely had no qualms with lying to the village elders. He hated them nearly as much as I did, as I came to find out.

"And you will continue to train under your foster father. And when the time comes, you will attend classes at the academy, all the while never revealing that you know me as anything more than a name."

I saw my first protest at that second request, though it was silent and had I not been watching so intently, I would have missed the way his small hand briefly clenched in the grass. "Train with him? Why?"

"Simply because he is one of the most skilled medic nin in the entire village and no other village can match the strength and power of our medical specialists. You are a bright boy, Kabuto-kun. I could use you in such a capacity. Payment for the time I waste on your training."

I could tell right away the boy wasn't the least bit happy with me, but he offered no further complaint. As I had hoped, the faint praise had managed to soothe whatever insult he found in training with his foster father. Such was the partnership Kabuto-kun and I had from the start. Above everything else, we had respect for intelligence and strength and despite my demanding schedule and his bouts of independence, we worked together as if two halves of a whole. It was the single reason I put as much trust in the boy as I did. Our goals were mutually inclusive… and we both adored the opportunity to study beyond the limits placed upon us.

For the four years I worked my experiments beneath the earth of Konoha, Kabuto-kun never breathed a word. He enjoyed assisting me far too much to spoil our fun simply to curry favor with the Hokage. In fact, it was because of Kabuto that I was able to pursue my experiments so easily. The boy's mind was really astonishing and I'm not afraid to admit that some of my best ideas were born from one offhand comment or another from my student.

Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself. The bulk of my work had not yet started when he and I first began to train. At that time I had only been allowed a small lab hidden away in the basement of the administration building. Certainly I understood their reasons for tucking me away out of sight, but I preferred it that way. It meant fewer people to disturb me and as it turned out, they wished to avoid me as much as I wished to be left alone. That lab was, I must admit, a sanctuary – a place where I was free to pursue science to my heart's content. Only I still could not be content within the limitations pressed upon me.

I was free to study anything I wished so long as it had no harmful effect on the village. I was allowed plants, even a handful of animals, rats and such, to do what tests I pleased. At first, the rats were indeed fascinating, but they died far too easily to be of any real use. Human beings were much more resilient. Of course, they never would have allowed me live humans and it was a limitation I lived with for a time. There were still things I could learn from rats, though I knew the time would eventually come when my desire grew too strong and I would be forced to take bolder steps to further my work.

I knew from Kabuto that the medics allowed minor research to be done on the dead to increase their ability to heal the living. This was what the Hokage would no doubt consider a noble cause and thus his morals did not prevent him from allowing the mutilation of falling ninja to serve the purposes of the medics. However, when I made a request to delve into their oh so generous supply of dead bodies, I was turned down flat.

"I'm sorry, Orochimaru-sama." Strangely, Yondaime didn't look the least bit sorry about any of it, though I'm sure I looked absolutely ill at having to ask him for any favors. He looked odd seated behind that desk, mounds of paperwork piled around him as if he were somehow qualified to do paperwork at his age. He should still be off playing his stupid games around the bath houses. Who was I kidding? He probably still played those stupid games. "The medics only have a few corpses to work with and they can't afford to part with any."

It was an almost believable excuse and I might have left things at that had we not been at war and losing men nearly every day. Not to mention the ninja from Iwagakure, who might as well be dropping their own corpses on our doorstep. I didn't bother arguing, though. Yondaime was obviously a bit drunk with power and no doubt he didn't wish to offer any further edge to the man who would one day replace him when the village returned to its senses. He had to understand his days of power were numbered. "Of course. I wouldn't wish to take what is necessary for the medics' research."

Like his teacher, Yondaime was never good at masking his feelings and so I caught quite easily the gleam of suspicion in his eyes. At least he was sharper than Jiraiya ever was. Sharp enough to suspect my easy compliance with his orders. I didn't give him a chance to question, however, and took my leave without properly being dismissed. It seemed for a moment as if he wanted very much to stop me, but in the end he clamped his mouth shut and allowed me to leave without protest, probably recognizing that I would not have stayed even if he had asked.

So focused was I on my amusement, that I didn't notice right away the presence in the hallway. Not until he spoke, that is.

"What is it you're trying to study now, Orochimaru?"

I paused, not even sparing a glance over my shoulder. "Are you not enjoying your retirement, Sarutobi-sensei?" Just finding the old fool lurking around the Hokage's office was enough to temper my irritation with amusement. "Shouldn't you be off playing chess with the other old men?"

He laughed at that, apparently humored by the fact that I thought him old. Poor man. He was obviously in denial regarding his advanced years. I was above to tell him so when he spoke first. "Come walk with me."

This, I hadn't expected, but his offer intrigued me. Why in the world the old man would want me to walk with him was beyond even my ability to guess, which I suppose was why I agreed. He said nothing for a time, waiting it seemed until we had left the administrative building and made our way towards the less populated districts. He was leading me towards the village walls, it seemed and it wasn't until we had climbed the stairs and reached the walkway that circled the village that he broke the uncomfortable silence between us. "What do you want with corpses, Orochimaru?"

I laughed heartily at this for what felt like the first time in ages. "So retirement has driven you to listening at doors to conversations that do not concern you?" Ah, but I shouldn't have been surprised, really. Sarutobi was as talented a snooper as Jiraiya ever was. More so, in fact, because in all his years, I don't think he was ever caught. I suppose I should have commended him for putting such skills to a better use than spying on women.

He seemed to understand my humor, though, even smiling himself, albeit a bit sadly. "Come now, don't change the subject. Why are you asking Yondaime for corpses?" When he noted my reluctance to answer, he pressed on. "You know I'm a great respecter of your genius, Orochimaru. I know you are capable, above anyone else in the village, of a breakthrough that will help us to end this war. If that is what you seek, I can help you."

The old man's offer came as a surprise. He was offering his aid to me and not to that ignorant child behind his all important desk? It was now my turn to look a bit suspicious. "Why would you want to help me? You did not trust me to become Hokage, yet you wish for me to work towards an end to this petty little war?"

Perhaps it may be difficult to believe, but in all the time since Yondaime's promotion, Sarutobi and I had never once discussed the particulars of his choice. In fact, he and I had not even spoken to one another. I'm sure he was more than reluctant to face my wrath and I cannot blame him. Even now I was still furious at him for his betrayal, but this sudden and new generosity was enough to give me pause. I was willing to listen, for now, to whatever explanation he was inclined to give.

"Trust had very little to do with it." He came to a stop in his strolling, standing along the edge of the wall where he could peer out over the village. It had grown considerably since the last time he and I had gazed upon it from the top of the Hokage monument and I got the sense in that moment that Sarutobi was feeling his age just as much as I. "Don't forget, I know you, Orochimaru. I know your loyalties and your ambitions. I know while you are the strongest shinobi in this village, you would have been miserable as Hokage, smothered in paperwork and the mundane chore of running Konoha. You would have neglected your studies and eventually come to hate me for putting such a burden upon you. Or you would have eventually come to neglect the village in favor of your studies and left us all in quite a bind. Besides, it would have been a great waste of your intellect to have it burdened with such tasks far below its capabilities."

It all sounded very contrived and yet also very logical, though I was certain there was more to it than simply concern over my well-being. I knew there was more, but I chose not to let on. After all, if he had his mind set to aiding me, I was not fool enough to anger him and lose my only chance at moving forward in my research. "I appreciate your concern, sensei, but you needn't worry about me. I would not allow a little paperwork to stop me from pursuing my goals."

He seemed more at ease with me when he found I was not going to respond harshly, even going so far as to chuckle lightly. "I said the same thing." Seeming to forget himself for just a moment, he reached up to pat my shoulder firmly, the way he used to when I was a boy and had done something particularly pleasing. Even I was given pause by the gesture and it threw off my defensiveness without my notice.

I smiled at the old man in a sincere way I hadn't expressed in quite some time. "You said you could help me?"

"Ah, yes." Sarutobi-sensei let his hand drop from my shoulder, clasping it with the other in front of him. "But, we are still left with the question of your intentions."

"Now, sensei, you know me better than that." I managed to avoid even glancing his way the entire time, determined to give the impression that I was completely unconcerned with the current topic of conversation. "I don't set out with a particular plan in mind. I merely go where my work leads me."

He was not pleased with my answer, but I could tell by his resigned posture that he knew the truth of it. "I understand, of course, but I doubt very much the village will. It is a difficult matter to allow the medics to do their work, let alone request one of the deceased for unknown experiments. The clans are already skittish about offering any of their own and some have outright refused."

There was no need for him to elaborate on that matter. I knew as well as anyone that most of the Konoha clans were secretive to a fault. The refusals were likely to have come from Hyuuga and Uchiha, which I must admit, were two of the clans I most wished to study. They possessed the most powerful doujutsu in existence and I would have been a fool not to be curious. Especially regarding Sharingan, which could, if duplicated, make my goals all that much easier to accomplish. "I understand. Your effort is appreciated, though I don't expect you to go out of your way simply to indulge my mind. We are in a time of war, after all." Whatever I said, though, it was exactly my intention that he should go very much out of his way for my sake. It would be the first step to making up for all the wrong he had dealt me.

There was a faint look of relief in his weathered features. Again I was surprised by the sudden effects of age that I'd never seemed to notice before. I still saw him in my mind's eye as he had been when he was our sensei and to realize that he was such an old man now came again and again as a shock. Still, I knew better than to underestimate his power or his influence. There was no doubt in my mind that he would put forth every effort towards getting me what I wanted as he always had. "We'll see what can be done."

He reached up to pat my shoulder once more before turning back towards the ramp leading down to the village, leaving me alone on the walls to ponder my next move. Things had certainly begun to look promising once more.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you all for your continued support of this fic. I'm glad to know that it has become a favorite of so many people.

Also, thank you Swizz for that unbelievably flattering review. I only hope I can continue to live up to it as I begin to delve into much more complicated subject matter. We're entering into a very complicated era in the Narutoverse timeline and I only hope I can do these great moments the justice they deserve. In the future you can expect to findretellings of Kakashi Gaiden (including a brief cameo by Kakashi), the Kyuubi attack, and Orochimaru's time with Akatsuki, among other things.

So please continue to enjoy the fic and I eagerly await more feedback. If there are any scenes you're hoping to see, let me know and I'll attempt to include them if at all possible. This fic is far from complete and there is always room for a bit of outside influence.

-sor

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Sarutobi-sensei was as good as his word. He managed somehow to procure a single corpse, just as he had promised. He refused to explain how and I did not ask, not wishing to put any tension between us when he had done me such a great favor. Plus, he placed several restrictions upon me and for the first time in years I was inclined to listen. Restrictions were not always bad and when they served to prevent the entire village from rising up against me, I was more than happy to follow them. Or at least, to give the illusion of following them. 

For the first time, limitations were placed on my studies. I was instructed to search for certain things. This was something I had never done in my life, hard as it might be to believe. I have always believed that knowledge flows as it will and one fact will lead to another, providing a path of learning that takes us where we are meant to go. To attempt to force facts to conform to a desired result will only color those facts based on what you are trying to find. Facts can be interpreted a million different ways and any information can be twisted to fit a theory if shown in the right light. With all knowledge, all history, it only comes down to the perspective of the man relating it.

Such a thing is true regarding myself, as well.

I related my findings to the council, colored with a perspective that would please them. They wished to know the body's reaction to certain jutsu commonly practiced by the Rock nin. It was a task I thought better suited to medics, but it was also the single condition to my work, so I concocted a simple explanation. It was little more than some nonsense about the rate at which chakra escapes the tenketsu in relation to certain jutsu and their ability to diminish a ninja's chakra power. In the end, my studies were 'inconclusive' but contained enough information to be of use to the medics. However, my real studies proved more conclusive than I could have imagined.

My goals included a multitude of things that one corpse simply wouldn't satisfy, so to learn as much as I had from the man only made my desire to go further even stronger. My work suggested that it was indeed possible to implant genetic information into a human body and allow it to take root. This could allow a man to learn not only common jutsu, but techniques tied to a bloodline. Nothing connected to kekkei genkai, but certain jutsu held in the blood, such as Shodai's Mokuton techniques, the Aburame clan's pact with insects, or the Akimichi body alteration jutsu could be transferred through blood. True, anyone with enough time and determination could learn these techniques, but there were certain components of the host clans' blood that made them more compatible. Or at least, that was my hypothesis. A hypothesis that did keep me busy with my rats for at least a few more months, work I was glad to have. The academy would be releasing a fresh batch of monsters within the week and I would be glad to be locked away in the basement, if only to avoid the noise.

Of course, I was well aware of all of it, thanks to Kabuto who had begun his tour at the academy earlier in the year. He wasn't exactly the most social of children, but he was amazingly observant when it came to his fellow classmates and upperclassmen. He came to me a few days before graduation, catching me in the process of expanding my lab. There were many advantages to being in the basement, as I've said before; not only for privacy, but for concealing the second lab I intended to create. Hollowing out the earth beneath the administrative building was of little difficulty, but equipping it properly would take a bit more time. I was in the process of ensuring the stability of the walls of this new hidden room when Kabuto found me.

He was smiling quite pleasantly, which was the first thing to give me pause. Whenever that boy smiled, it sent chills down my spine, if only because I knew what kind of mind lurked behind those smiles. Finding Kabuto amused was often a dangerous thing. "Do you plan to bother me with that ridiculous grinning all day? I could find better uses for you than that."

Most children, when faced with one of my ill moods, would be frightened to tears, but Kabuto only smiled all the brighter as he clambered up onto one of my work tables, small legs swinging freely when he finally took his seat. "I just heard that Sandaime will be paying you a visit later. Something about training a genin."

If there was anything that would have put me in an even worse mood, it was news like that. I had no desire to deal with yet another attempt to pawn off a trio of brats into my care, especially now that I had much more important work to attend to, not to mention seeing to Kabuto's education. There was no room for some idiot child in my plans. Or at least, that was what I though. When I hadn't responded, Kabuto pressed on, pushing his glasses further up his nose in that infuriatingly innocent manner of his. "I heard she requested you specifically."

That, indeed, gave me pause. It was rare to find anyone in the village who didn't paint me as a villain or at the very least an eccentric and odd man who should be avoided. Children found me frightening; adults didn't trust me. I didn't need them. However, to hear that there was a child in the village that possessed enough sense to admire a true ninja rather than the perverted trio who seemed to earn the adoration of all, honestly intrigued me. Never before had I been requested. "Does this bright girl have a name?"

Kabuto beamed, obviously patting himself on the back for winning my attention away from my projects. "She's a few years older than me, pretty loud and a bit of a troublemaker." His nose wrinkled, causing his glasses to slide down the bridge once again. "Her name is Mitarashi Anko and if what I've heard the other kids saying is true, she absolutely idolizes you." He didn't seem the least bit pleased by that fact and I began to wonder, much to my delight, if Kabuto was somehow jealous that someone else actually paid me some mind. It only then occurred to me that I probably spoiled him with my attentions. That was further incentive to actually accept this girl as my pupil. Allowing Kabuto to think he had exclusive rights to my attention could become very dangerous as the boy grew.

From the very start, Mitarashi Anko fascinated me, even before I ever laid eyes on her. That she was bold enough to request my teachings when so many of the elders stood against me said a great deal about her independence. She was like me in that she was not willing to settle for what the village defined as the norm and thus, she had the makings of a perfect student, shapeless clay free to be molded by my hands into the form of a real ninja. The village had been lacking in real ninja for many years now. Whatever Kabuto may have thought of my decision, I admit that I was a bit blinded by the girl's admiration. It was that which led me to accept her as a student without so much as laying eyes upon her, a decision I regretted for many months to come.

On first sight, I knew right away that I had condemned myself to years of mild torture. Kabuto had not lied when he called her noisy and at first she reminded me of Yondaime, a comparison which absolutely made my stomach churn. Rather than showing off for girls, though, she showed off for the entire academy class, bullying a much larger boy into turning over the sweets from his lunch. When he eventually did so with a grudging glare, she held aloft the dango as if it were gold, laughing in such a manner that I was shocked the boy did not strike her right then and there. I learned later that most of them were afraid of her; that beneath that somewhat foolish behavior, the girl was immensely skilled with her fists and there had yet to be a classmate who could best her in combat.

Sarutobi-sensei managed somehow to persuade Yondaime to allow me to take her on alone, without the encumbering presence of two other brats. I later learned that Jiraiya had also spoken for me in this regard, a fact which surprised me more than I would ever admit. He and I had not spoken often as of late and I had observed with pleasure the rift between us widening. Still, Jiraiya knew me better than anyone else in the village and I suppose he understood my temperament well enough to judge that I would only be exceptionally cruel to the other two intruders. However, they both said it was 'good for me' to take on a student; that it would improve my relationship with the village and give me, at long last, a chance to pass on my legacy.

I, on the other hand, never intended for Anko to be my legacy. That position had already been filled by Kabuto-kun and I had no intention of replacing my most loyal soldier, even if the girl was older and seemed to like me even more than Kabuto. Legacy was a thing to be treated with care, not thrown away upon the first interested party. I suppose that was how Jiraiya's own legacy was so sloppily passed along, right down to that stupid Kyuubi brat. A legacy of idiots who, with the exception of Hatake Kakashi, didn't share a lick of sense between them.

Anko would have fit in much more quickly with Jiraiya's brood than with mine. Still, she did provide me that link to the village that, for a time, fooled the elders into thinking I cared for Konoha's future. And for all her faults, she was a quick study and she had an affinity for my difficult techniques. She didn't even mind that many of my most well known jutsu were deemed revolting

The only real problem I had with Mitarashi Anko was tolerating her presence.

"Oi, Orochimaru-sensei!" She had obviously been waiting for some time, even though I had not come tardy to our first training session. Her eagerness was a promising sign, though I could have done without the shouting. "I'm so glad you agreed to train me! Everyone said I was crazy for wanting it but they don't know what they're talking about." She didn't seem the least bit deterred by my silence and continued to babble on and on while I stood by, watching her bounce happily on her heels. "Kotetsu-kun said you didn't like kids, but I know that can't be true, otherwise you wouldn't have agreed."

"I hate children."

That seemed to quiet her for a moment, but it was not long at all before she came up with a counter, brightening up again as if I hadn't spoken. "Well I'm not like other kids, anyway. They're all stupid and want to be like Jiraiya-sama or Yondaime, but those guys are really just perverts." She leaned a bit closer, as if divulging some secret, even though we were the only two within a radius of miles. "I heard Jiraiya-sama writes dirty books. Is that true?"

I couldn't help but regard the girl with a somewhat surprised expression, but I turned it quickly to indifference. There really was no point in discussing Jiraiya, though it did please me that this child had the sense to realize that Jiraiya was little more than a pervert who knew a few flashy jutsu. "Yes, it's true. But we did not come here to discuss Jiraiya's many faults."

She deflated for an instant, but not a moment later she pumped a fist into the air, grinning in a manner that reminded me far too much of Jiraiya. "Right! I'm ready to train!"

As objectionable as her energy was, it was still nice to see a child in this village that was eager for knowledge. It made the morning's training sessions much more bearable than I had originally assumed they would be. I taught her a few of the minor jutsu I had first used as a boy and by the time I released her for lunch, she had already made admirable progress. Perhaps Sarutobi-sensei had been right all along. There really was something satisfying about watching a student progress. Certainly I had watched Kabuto progress over the past months, but for some reason Anko was different. Perhaps it was merely that I could take official responsibility for her advancement; that I could show pride rather than feigning indifference.

Or perhaps it was because Anko truly admired me. She didn't understand me, but she admired me.

I had been on the verge of retreating to the village for a few hours of work, leaving the girl time to eat and train independently, but before I had gone more than a few steps, she stopped me with that same shrill noise as she had greeted me with. "Oi, Orochimaru-sensei!" If she noted my flinch, she gave no indication. "I brought lunch out here so I wouldn't have to go back to the village."

I didn't quite understand her reason for telling me something so pointless until I turned and found her arm outstretched, offering me quite a generous helping of dango. This I hadn't expected, but the girl looked so hopeful, it made me honestly debate my initial instinct to refuse the gift. However, I didn't debate long. "I don't like sweets."

That simple proclamation seemed to strike the girl with such force one would have thought I'd just admitted to cutting her mother's throat. For all her intelligence, Anko could not comprehend that there was a man alive who was not obsessed with something so trivial as dango. She recovered quickly, however, as she always did, shaking her head as if I had no sense at all. "I'm not going to give you another chance to take it, sensei. I'm just as happy with eating it myself."

She'd obviously anticipated such a threat would bring me scrambling to take what I could before she devoured it, but when I merely shrugged and turned away again, she was scampering on my heels within seconds. "Sensei, please! I brought it for you. It's really good." And as if it would entice me further, she waved one of the skewers right under my nose, causing me to jerk backwards in a most ungraceful manner.

Still, she was not deterred, and it was after at least a minute of dango being unceremoniously shoved into my face that I finally conceded and very reluctantly ate one – only one. It was just as I'd expected, terribly sweet and not at all something I would enjoy. I made no effort to hide my distaste, but I don't think she noticed as she was too busy consuming the rest of the skewer herself, laughing happily with her mouth full. At least, having eaten her damned dango, she made no further effort to stop me from leaving.

However, there were other obstacles standing in my way that afternoon.

I noticed him as I stalked past his hiding place in one of the denser trees. It was a testament to Anko's promise that I hadn't noticed the snooper sooner, but it was clear by the way he laughed at my attempts to erase the taste of the dango from my mouth that Jiraiya had been watching for some time. The only indication I gave of my notice, however, was a rather venomous glare, which only amused him all the more. "I told you you'd enjoy it, Orochimaru-sensei!"

"Do I look like I'm enjoying myself?"

Still laughing like a fool, Jiraiya dropped to the ground to walk at my side, giving me a firm pat on the back. "I never would have predicted you'd take a kid like her, though. Always pictured you as the type to teach some grumpy little egomaniac."

I wasn't entirely sure if I should be insulted or not, but that was only further reason to completely ignore Jiraiya. He had obviously come to gloat, over what, though, I wasn't sure. He and I hadn't exactly been on the best of terms as of late, even if he wished to pretend that nothing at all had occurred. "And I always pictured you laying face down in your own drool outside the hot springs. At least one of us was correct."

My insult had the intended result of killing whatever further humor was lodged in that thick skull of his, prompting the rare appearance of a more serious Jiraiya. "I'm just glad to see you have something else to focus on now. You've been off on your own a lot lately, accepting all those solo missions." He paused, fingers threading through his white hair as he attempted to find the right words, a talent he certainly did not possess. When he finally came up with something, it was completely unrelated to his previous words. "You know, they say you can learn a lot from your students."

Of course I had heard the saying before, but not once had I believed it; at least, until I had taken on Kabuto-kun. That boy had indeed taught me quite a bit and that was one of the most fascinating things about him. His medical knowledge had been a major boon to my work and his unique perspective had been helpful in more ways than one. He observed things as only an outsider could. However, when it came to Anko, I was not such an optimist. That girl could teach me nothing. "And what did you learn from your students? A better appreciation for the written word?" I knew well enough that Yondaime was an avid fan of Jiraiya's 'novels.'

"I'm being serious, damnit!" He looked quite exasperated, which pleased me very much. Perhaps that would be enough to discourage him from prying into my life any further. Sadly, it didn't serve to stop the current lecture. "I've known for a long time you needed something to connect you to the rest of the village and now that you've finally taken that step, I'm not going to let you waste it on your stupid ego." His words had their desired effect, bringing me to a halt right there on the path to the village.

"You're one to speak of wasted opportunities."

"We're not talking about me." He had stopped as well, though his posture was not its typical, relaxed self, but rather he was more tense than I had seen him in years. "I've watched you for years, Orochimaru. You're the smartest guy I've ever known, smarter than Sandaime, smarter than every last elder on the council. Yet I don't understand how a guy like you can be so damn stupid sometimes." He sensed my coming protest and silenced me in advance with a harsh glare. "Every ninja in this village would kill to have the kind of talent you have, but they don't realize what a total bastard that talent has made you.

"Your entire life you've put up this wall between yourself and the rest of us. Even at your best moments, you've never opened up completely. I wish you'd just…" There was no telling how long he would have gone on, so rather than give him any indication that I cared one bit about what he had to say, I simply walked away. I didn't even make an effort to quiet him; it would have done no good. Yet Jiraiya was persistent as ever. "Why don't you even try, Orochimaru?"

I hesitated a moment, then, if only because I could not focus on the path ahead due to the laughter that had suddenly gripped me. Try? What did he want from me? To become just another carbon copy of a typical Konoha pervert? Would my genius only then be appreciated? Finding myself unable to speak for my laughter, I merely waved him away, indicating without words that I was through with such inane babbling. I would have rather sacrificed my genius right then and there than conformed to Konoha's standard of normalcy.

I learned years later that Jiraiya had still clung to that vain hope that Anko would somehow change me, even when I was still isolating myself with my work whenever I was not with the girl. As far as I was concerned, Jiraiya's concern had come too late. My feet were set firmly on the path of discovery now, and once I had completed my hidden lab, I took advantage of the war to procure what Yondaime had refused me. With blood falling like rain, it was only natural that I gather a few of the dead for my own purposes. I'm certain Jiraiya would have considered it a waste of my genius.

How fortunate that I never cared at all for a thing Jiraiya thought.


	10. Chapter 10

This next chapter comes just after this fic broke the 1000 hits mark! So I'd just like to extend an even more grateful thank you to everyone who has read, enjoyed, and recommended this fic to their friends. It's thanks to the amazingly positve response from all of you that I've been so driven to provide more frequent updates. I hope you continue to enjoy the fic for the next 1000 hits!

Also, in the face of this fic doing so well, I've released the first chapter in my next project. I'll take advantage of my readers here and give myself a brief plug. "To Fly" is a fic written in a similar style to "A Matter of Perspective." However, the narrator in this case is Hyuuga Neji. I hope all the Neji fans among you will check it out and enjoy it.

As always, I encourage feedback. I love to hear from everyone; and not just the compliments. I welcome constructive criticism and suggestions just as openly as positive feedback. Thank you all again for your continued support of this fic.

-sor

* * *

It only took a few months of work to prepare my second lab and see to it that it was well stocked with everything I might need. Had we not been at war at the time, I never would have been able to get away with procuring the necessities so easily, but with the village's full energy focused almost entirely on war, it was easy enough to bring in what I needed without the notice of the all too nosey council. And yet again my connection with Kabuto-kun proved to be indispensable. Due to his training, he had begun to work a few shifts in the hospital, tending to wounded ninja and acting as a nurse's aid, allowing him to further his training under the tutorship of not only his father, but also other accomplished medic nin.

He was also granted access to certain medical formulas used to accomplish what the medics could not. Sedatives, pain killers, antibiotics. He was able to swipe small samples here and there, all of which eventually lined the shelves of my lab. In the often hectic wartime environment, it was rare the medics even noticed the missing goods and when they did, it was attributed to faulty record keeping rather than the sticky fingers of their youngest aid. Kabuto has always had the advantage of being the least suspicious man ever to walk the paths of Konoha.

As a reward for his assistance, I graciously allowed him more access to my original lab, even giving him permission to work when I was not present. I trusted Kabuto to be inconspicuous and he did not let me down. True, his work was hardly at the level of my own, but it gave me the time I needed to work on more promising projects. The council, fools that they were, simply assumed I was too busy with Anko to produce results at the speed I had previously. Had they known they were looking at the work of an eight year old, I believe the old coots would have lost their minds; or what was left of their minds.

Meanwhile, there was more than enough to keep me busy while Kabuto took up my less important work. The first few objects of study were a pair of ninja from Iwa, spies who attempted to waylay me as I returned from a brief mission to one of the neighboring towns. There were no witnesses and it was a very simple matter to smuggle the men into the city and then into the basement. Rock ninja were troublesome, however. I knew little about the village, which was a constant bane to my attempts over the next few years to study their kind. I found it much more productive to study ninja from the leaf, but the saying that beggars cannot be choosers was of particular significance.

I did eventually manage, however, to procure a few much more interesting specimens after one particularly fierce battle. Three, in fact, though had I not been forced to at least feign interest in defending my fellow ninja of the leaf, I might have managed five or six. I did, however, manage to bring home the three most valuable yet. The first was one of those paranoid, self absorbed Hyuuga, whose corpse I was only able to procure thanks to a grand stroke of luck. Hyuuga corpses were known to vanish notoriously quickly from the battlefields and I was lucky to find one, let alone find it unwatched.

Of course, upon closer examination, the corpse turned out to be absolutely useless. The Byakugan I had so desperately wished to study had been sealed away even before I had gotten my hands on the man. I couldn't exactly comprehend how, but that did not stop me from further investigating the body. It was only due to the relatively recent and intense flow of chakra into the man's eyes that I even knew where to look. This sealing had not been the cause of any outward influence, but rather something within the body. Something had triggered a reaction within his brain and it did not take me long to find the source.

The seal was no longer visible, but was easily detectable. It was a fascinating thing, really. Every ninja knew of a number of seals, though they were rarely put into practice for a variety of reasons. In fact, nearly every sealing technique I had learned was considered forbidden, only allowed in the most dire of circumstances in the most trusted hands. To realize the Hyuuga used such a thing in order to maintain their secrets was fascinating. In fact, it was so fascinating that the Hyuuga clan lost another member of their branch family to that same war. Sadly, the bodies were never recovered.

The Hyuuga seal was in all ways unique in its ability to control chakra flow from a specific outside source and direct it to any part of the brain, destroying brain cells or even causing death to the victim. In every way, it was a useful, ingenious means of control. However, what made it imperfect was that all the power lay outside of the body in the hands of another. A seal would be much more efficient if it were able to draw chakra from within the body and apply it, giving the bearer the ability to utilize all of the body's chakra to a much stronger degree. Enhancing power was always more promising than limiting it, at least, so long as control remained within the hands of those intelligent enough to use it to its best promise.

The next acquisition was a young man of marginal strength, easily killed thanks to his obvious lack of intellect. His name wasn't important; only that the family name was Uchiha. The clan wouldn't miss him much. Uchiha was already renowned for breeding like rabbits. What was the loss of one pathetic man, especially with that little genius Itachi drawing all the clan's focus?

This man was the first I took to studying, focusing nearly all of my attention on his eyes. He was obviously a lesser member of the clan as his Sharingan was underdeveloped compared to clan leaders like Uchiha Fugaku. Still, it was a much more productive course of study than rats. An Uchiha eye was formed in a slightly different fashion from the regular eyeballs I had studied in the past. It was littered with chakra paths dense enough to supply half a dozen normal eyes with power. I could only imagine what it might look like in a live subject. It obviously took an immense amount of chakra to both activate and control the Sharingan, which explained why there were certain members of the clan who excelled and others who never activated it at all. The strength of the eye was very much dependant on the strength of the user's chakra.

Of course, this was all in theory, as that damn clan was as tight lipped as they come. It was only when Hatake Kakashi returned from that battle that I was able to judge the true scope of Sharingan's chakra use. The boy and his teammate were evasive with the details, but rumors abounded as to how the team left the village that morning as three and returned as two, one bearing the eye of the deceased chuunin, Uchiha Obito. To say the least, there were those in the village who suspected foul play, but none brave enough to say as much. The team had been Yondaime's students, after all.

Only the Uchiha clan dared to speak out against the boy, demanding direct involvement in whatever course he chose to take. Because of this, Yondaime kept him tucked away, dealing with the clan himself on Hatake's behalf. In the meantime, the council also chose to intervene, citing multiple reasons from avoiding conflict with one of our most powerful clans to learning more of the rather extraordinary process involved in the transplant. Because of all this overreaction, I was faced with a challenge of my own. I wanted nothing more than to have a look at the Hatake brat, to determine exactly what had been done to give him such a gift. Truly, where was the logic in allowing a boy like him to have a gift so precious when he would only squander it on reading Jiraiya's novels?

During this time of great internal turmoil, I managed to find myself a perfectly logical reason for showing up unannounced at Yondaime's office. Kabuto had completed some routine experiment and while the results were nothing of real interest, it would serve me well as an excuse for an unannounced visit. It also just so happened that I arrived not long at all after Uchiha Fugaku had been spotted entering the building, his highly overrated son in tow. It was also quite convenient that I managed to arrive just in time to overhear a bit of their somewhat heated conversation from outside the half opened door.

It seemed, however, that I was not the only one interested in listening to the business inside the Hokage's office. Leaning against the doorframe, pretending to look completely uninterested was just the boy I had been hoping to see. Hatake Kakashi glanced my way with his one eye, the Sharingan that I so wished to see hidden away behind his forehead protector. On the opposite side of the door stood the equally silent and brooding Uchiha Itachi, who had absolutely no reason to be there other than his father's ridiculous desire to flaunt him in front of the village, and most especially the Hokage. No doubt the boy was there to illustrate the strength of Uchiha and that the village should show more respect for the clan. No matter how obvious the ploy, though, I did take note of the incredible strength in the boy. If there were those in the village who compared his early potential to my own, I would not have argued.

Still, had I known then the trouble Itachi would eventually cause me, I would have snuffed out his pathetic life right then and there.

I might have been more interested with the two brooding children had there not been a much more significant discussion going on within the office. Fugaku's voice was level, though he couldn't entirely hide the tension buried beneath the calmer façade. "My only concern is the ease with which such a transplant could be accomplished. I realize the girl was extraordinarily talented, but still, if a chuunin could complete such a surgery in the field, there is no doubt in my mind that it could be accomplished more easily and more successfully within ideal circumstances. Your student has set quite a dangerous precedent that puts my clan into a very awkward position."

"I understand. Believe me, I do." Yondaime's voice was uncharacteristically tired and it struck me that he likely hadn't had much rest as of late. The battle to push back the Rock nin had been difficult enough on its own, but if I knew that boy even a little, he was no doubt exhausting himself further over the death of that Uchiha boy. "I do not intend for the details of the procedure to become common knowledge. Kakashi has agreed to be discrete and we can ask nothing more of him."

"I have no doubt he will be a responsible keeper of the Sharingan. However, the clan only wishes to maintain contact to ensure this." Fugaku sounded sincere enough, but I was not inclined to believe he meant a word of it. Uchiha was renowned for its ego and as a clan there were only a small handful who did not look down their noses at the entire village. It was my understanding that Yondaime's little Obito had been one of those. That probably only meant the boy was too pathetic to contain an ego. After all, he _was_ dead. A greater ninja would not have been dispatched so easily.

Yondaime, also was not fooled by false sincerity. At least Jiraiya's brat was not as unobservant as he had been a year ago. "That Sharingan was Obito's gift. I won't allow you to cheapen it by treating it as nothing more than a formality."

Kakashi stirred and I noticed right away that his single eye was peering intently at me, brows furrowed unhappily. I realized I had been listening for far too long to appear innocent and the boy was likely not inclined to welcome my curiosity. So reluctantly, I stepped forward and rapped lightly on the door before pushing it open. I might have been imagining things, but I'm certain Yondaime looked glad to see me. My visit was no doubt the excuse he needed to send the unwelcome Uchiha presence back to their over-important police offices. "Ah, Orochimaru-san. I've been expecting you."

I arched a brow from behind Fugaku's back. We had made no appointment. I could not help but grin faintly, but briefly, masking the expression when the Uchiha leader turned to peer at me through narrowed eyes. I must admit, it gave me great satisfaction to interrupt that man's ranting. "But it seems I've come at a bad time. Should I leave the two of you to your important business?" It was a whim to play along with Yondaime's little ploy, but worth it simply to see the irritation in Fugaku's face.

'That won't be necessary." It was surprising to see just how rude Fugaku was inclined to be as he practically stalked past me to the door where he retrieved his son. "I've other business to attend to today. We will speak again Hokage-sama." He placed a hand on Itachi's shoulder, guiding him out of sight down the hallway, all the while oblivious to how bored the boy looked with all of his father's dramatics.

Yondaime followed them into the hallway, leaving me behind. However, he hadn't gone to stop the pair. Rather, he stood for some time, exchanging soft words with Kakashi that I could not quite hear and despite my desire, I knew that moving closer would only be a detriment to my cause. Fool that he was, Yondaime was perceptive. So I waited patiently until he sent the boy off and stepped inside once more.

When Kakashi was out of sight, Yondaime sunk into his chair with an exaggerated sigh, though he was suddenly all grins a moment later. It struck me then that he truly was not very talented with politics. He did not have the courage to put the Uchiha clan in its place as I would have. One could not be an effective Hokage if he worried only about stepping on toes and hurting feelings. It was just another way in which the boy proved my point that I could have done the position justice where he only fumbled through.

"I really didn't think the clan would take this so seriously." Yondaime's willingness to confide such a thing in me came as a surprise. I imagine Jiraiya's inexplicable fondness for me must have somehow worked its way into his student, giving me just the advantage I needed. I would provide him an ear while he went on about his lack of ability to control Uchiha. Not only that, but providing aid to his sensei had the potential to earn the trust of the Hatake boy, and with trust came the possibility of examining that eye of his much more closely. I could easily accomplish both tasks if I played my hand well.

"Everything is serious to the Uchiha clan." I waved it off as if it were nothing, chuckling just enough to hopefully put the fool at ease. Despite my effort, though, the monkey brat did not seem inclined to agree.

Yondaime lifted a hand to his forehead, rubbing a bit at what must have been a fast developing headache. "I don't really want to act like their concerns are baseless, but I'm not sure exactly what Fugaku-san wants me to do. What's done is done."

"Still," I spoke to Yondaime, maintaining a calm, almost nonchalant tone. "You can't blame them for being fascinated. Your students have managed to prove a theory that has been dangling tauntingly before many ninja for some time. The question of an unnatural kekkei genkai. Can it exist in a body not born with it?" I was hardly inclined to hide my own interest in the subject, but I hoped Yondaime would see it only as another manifestation of my desire for learning. "Now that it has proven to be possible, the clan is paranoid of losing their superiority."

"And you're as fascinated as they are." It wasn't said harshly. In fact, I even detected more than a hint of humor in Yondaime's voice. He did know me better than I thought, no doubt thanks to Jiraiya and his tendency to babble.

"Perhaps." I didn't deny it. Rather, I found that admitting to bits and pieces of the truth tended to dissuade others from searching for the deeper truths. Lies made men suspicious, but just enough honesty kept secrets much more efficiently. "How could I not be? It is an amazing breakthrough. However, unlikeUchiha, my interest is purely scientific. It hardly matters to me in whose head that Sharingan resides."

My words seemed to spark something within him and he was silent for a few breaths, gaze focused inward. It was only as I was about to break the suddenly awkward silence that he spoke again, seeming tentative at first, but fast gaining confidence. "Orochimaru-san, I know you're a very skilled ninja and your talent with chakra control is nearly unrivaled." I must admit, I was terribly curious to find out the reason for such unusual praise.

"As you know, with the war to manage, I'm busy a lot of the time. And as much as I would like to help Kakashi-kun develop the control he needs to make the best of Sharingan, I'm afraid it's probably impossible." Noting the surprise on my face, he pushed on quickly, as if he were afraid I might stop him, when really, silencing him was the last thing on my mind. "If you have time, I would really appreciate your help. I realize he might be resistant, but I'm sure he'll understand the necessity. There is no one more skilled than you in the village and I have no doubt that you would be helpful to his development."

I knew, even before he fell silent, that I would accept his offer. A chance to work with Kakashi was exactly what I wanted, but I knew better than to seem eager. It would only arouse suspicion if I were to reveal how very badly I wished to examine that boy's eye. So I hesitated. "I suppose he could join Anko-chan and I." There was still reluctance in my voice, though I slowly allowed it to dissipate as if I had suddenly had an epiphany. "It _would _be good for Anko-chan to have a sparring partner other than myself, especially one so skilled as Kakashi-kun. In fact," I finally allowed a fraction of the smile I had been holding back to seep through my guard. "It would be good for both of them, I'm sure."

Yondaime seemed relieved to have my agreement and it showed in every inch of his face. The boy was terrible at hiding his own emotions. It was that which made it so easy to manipulate him as if he were no more than an elaborate puppet. He could not hide his own thoughts and so he deemed it impossible for others to do so. The poor boy really was too naïve to be Hokage. "Wonderful. Thank you, Orochimaru-san." He hesitated again, a hint of laughter in his blue eyes. "Just keep in mind his promotion. He's a bit full of himself at the moment. Or at least, he was." The laughter faded as quickly as it had come, replaced by a suddenly heavy air.

Sensing Yondaime was at a loss for words, I nodded, understanding all that was left unsaid. Kakashi was still mourning the loss of that fool Uchiha and thus he was likely to be grumpy. I could handle as much easily. Jiraiya had been prone to bouts of moodiness as a boy and I had dealt with him skillfully enough. Some brand new jounin brat would be simple in comparison. "Of course. I'll take care." When I saw the relief in his eyes, I knew I had spoken well. "Anko-chan and I will be meeting for our regular session this afternoon. Kakashi-kun is welcome to join us."

"Excellent." Yondaime's bright demeanor had returned in full force as he stood from his desk, nodding firmly. "If all goes well when I see him again, he'll be there."

My walk back to the lab was a bit of a blur, as my mind was focused not on the work that awaited me there, and of course, not on the path ahead, but on the opportunity that had fallen so easily into my lap. With such luck on my side, I would have to be certain not to squander it. Thankfully, I would have Anko on my side as well to do the work of putting the brat at ease. Working with the girl had the added benefit of giving me a tool not only to improve my image, but through whom I could knock down most defenses and more skillfully obtain information. For reasons I could not comprehend, most people found Anko rather pleasant and were more likely to be at ease in her presence. Thankfully, I did not need to understand this to take full advantage.

Of course, there was no point in growing too terribly excited. To become too enthused would be a detriment to my focus, so rather than do more than the basest of planning, I focused my attention on my newest experiments. The Hyuuga and Uchiha corpses had been stored away for further study and the third laid out for examination. The man was a Rock nin and on first glance there was nothing particularly special about him. In fact, he was decidedly ordinary. That is, he was ordinary until I discovered the one thing about the man that made him more valuable than all the rest.

This man was still alive.


	11. Chapter 11

This update took much longer than I expected. I'm sad to report that the busy season has hit us at work and I won't be updating quite as often as I was before. But I'm writing as often as I can and I'll roughly predict an update or two a week, scattered among my various works in progress.

Thank you to all my loyal readers and the many reviewers. It looks like a lot folks are new to reading this as of last chapter and I'm glad to have a larger crowd. I hope you all enjoy chapter 11. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated and valued. Suggestions, as well.

-sor

* * *

"Kabuto-kun!" I must admit, I felt suddenly overwhelmed by the possibilities presented to me in that single moment. The man was alive! As much as I wanted nothing more than to take full advantage of my luck immediately, there were much more pressing matters. Namely, the enormous task of keeping the man alive. This was why my first instinct had been to summon Kabuto and make full use of those fantastic talents of his. After all, the man might have been alive now, but no doubt his condition was precarious and the trauma that would be caused by my work would hardly safeguard his health.

The single door opened slowly, but it was a few moments before Kabuto appeared, the delay born from the necessity of replacing the curtains that hid the door. When he joined me at the examination table, having to pull up a stool in order to see the body clearly, his brows were already creased with worry. "He's breathing." The boy was observant as ever.

"Indeed, he's breathing." I could not hide the smile that was fast growing on my fact and Kabuto cast a brief, curious glance my way. It prompted a smile of his own, though it differed from mine in that Kabuto's exuded both pleasure and a carefully subdued fascination. He, too, had never had the real opportunity to examine a living body on his own and it was likely the boy was just as pleased with developments as I was. However, he was spending far too much time gawking. "Well? Make yourself useful and examine him. He must be kept alive and strong. If his body is weak, he will be of no use to us."

Despite my irate tone, Kabuto only smiled all the more, leaning over the body to place a small hand on the man's chest. After a moment, the faint glow of chakra appeared in his hand and slowly seeped into the man's body, after which the Rock nin took a deeper, more stable breath. Kabuto seemed pleased with his work as he practically bounded down from the stool only to climb atop a nearby counter in order to search through the bottles on one of my high shelves. "Do you still have the blue liquid I brought, Orochimaru-sama?"

"Blue liquid?" I could hardly keep track of the multitude of vials Kabuto and I had brought in and if the boy wished to find his blue liquid, he would have to be much more specific.

His young face twisted unhappily for a moment before his entire head disappeared within the depths of a cabinet. I could still hear his voice, though it was muffled from within the wooden walls. "It's special. It keeps the body's systems regulated while keeping the person unconscious. I went thought a lot of trouble to get it and..." His head drew quickly back from the cabinet, followed by a hand holding aloft a tiny blue flask. "Here it is, Orochimaru-sama!"

There was a soft thud as the boy dropped back to the floor, fetching a syringe before climbing back atop his stool. The man on the table was only beginning to wake, his eyes opening into mere slits, droplets of water appearing in the corners, no doubt stung by the bright lights above the table. His eyes did not have time to adjust, however. Kabuto was quick when he put his mind to it and it was only a matter of seconds before the man's eyes closed again thanks to that much adored blue liquid of Kabuto's.

"I'll have to get more." Kabuto peered at the vial with a bit of a frown before carrying it back to a much lower shelf that did not require him to climb atop any countertops. "I gave him enough to keep him asleep for a while, but it won't last forever." The boy turned, leaning his back against a large cabinet, pausing to push his glasses further up along the bridge of his nose. He was peering intently at me from behind those glasses, attempting to temper his over eager expression with some kind of seriousness. "So what do you plan to do with him?" He was obviously under the impression that he would be highly involved and earn a respite from the often boring and tedious animal studies.

However, Kabuto's eagerness was nothing more than a minor distraction. My focus was only for the Rock ninja, sleeping comfortably on the examination table. His breaths were still uneven at times, but otherwise he seemed to be recovering due to whatever action Kabuto had taken. It would take time to determine the man's precise condition, but such was advantageous. Had he been in stronger condition, I would have been far too tempted to forgo my work with Kakashi and spend my entire afternoon pouring over the mysteries a living human body could show me. But then again, my work with Kakashi was just as important if I were to attempt another successful Sharingan transplant.

"Kabuto-kun," My eyes finally slid from the unconscious man to my young student, whose eyes were also eagerly devouring the man as if by sight alone he could discover all the mysteries of the universe. It was for that reason, I pushed away my fondness for the boy and forced my tone to become firm. "While I am away, I trust you to keep watch over him. Only keep watch. Remember, Kabuto, that I can end your apprenticeship at any time should you choose to betray me, even for the sake of your own advancement." I knew well enough that he wanted nothing more than to dig into that body the moment I left him unattended.

I hadn't entirely expected him to back down, and as usual the boy did not disappoint me. His expression faltered from its usual innocence and even behind those glasses, I could see his displeasure. Still, he knew he would obey, despite the protest that followed. "Of course, Orochimaru-sama. However, I would hate to lose focus by such a terrible development and perhaps allow something secret and dangerous to slip."

I laughed, amused by his bravery as I always was, but only because both he and I knew our threats and bravado were nothing more than talk. I would not have dismissed him from his position at my side any more than he would have turned me in. "I will return before dark. Take care with our precious merchandise."

Giving the boy what could pass for an affectionate pat on the head, I stalked past, my unhappiness at having to abandon the Rock nin turning fast to exuberance. My task now was to determine Kakashi-kun's potential and more than that, examine that lovely eye of his. If the boy could find a way to use the eye without depleting his chakra, it would give me just the confirmation I would need to begin tests of my own in order to find the best way to insure that Hatake Kakashi was not the only ninja to acquire an unnatural Sharingan.

Of course, though I was early to arrive as usual, Anko was even earlier, moving through her usual series of warm-ups. However, her discipline was still lacking. The moment she caught sight of me, her focus shifted from her work, which should have been her primary concern, and settled on me, one arm waving vigorously. "Oi, Orochimaru-sensei! I've been practicing that new jutsu you taught me. Watch me!"

My eyes closed for a moment as I fought to maintain my composure. She was still undisciplined, even after so many months under my tutelage. It could only prompt me to think that I was somehow failing as a sensei, just as I had always imagined I would. Or more likely, it meant that Anko was simply untrainable. Still, I allowed her to show off however she liked. Undisciplined as she was, I was quite interested in observing her progress. Besides, that damn Hatake brat was late, if he were even coming at all.

When she wasn't discouraged, though I doubt she would have been even had I struck her physically, Anko darted forward towards one of the trees whose trunk already bore numerous scars from her earlier training. She was grinning broadly by the time she began the jutsu, acting as if this were not training, but some grand game. Still, much to my surprise and admiration, the girl performed Senei Jashu flawlessly, a trio of snakes darting out from her arm and sinking fangs deep into the wood.

Even before the serpents had fully retreated, she was already beaming up at me, eagerly awaiting my response. Despite my feelings regarding actively seeking praise, I could not help but smile at the girl, reaching out to pat her head. "Well done, Anko-chan. You are learning quickly."

She beamed brightly at the praise and turned back towards the tree almost immediately, but I stopped her with a touch of my hand against her shoulder. I needed her alert and at her best when Kakashi arrived. I had no plans to test him myself, but rather observe him like a hawk and learn all I can. "Save your chakra, Anko-chan. We will have company today."

"Company?" That one word caught her attention successfully and she no longer seemed at all interested in training. Rather she was completely focused on me. Good. That was how I liked her to be.

"Hatake Kakashi will be joining us and you and I will be providing a service to him."

She appeared momentarily baffled, as if she could not comprehend what business the boy had in training with us. However, her quicksilver emotions brought on a rapid shift and she was once again smiling. "Kakashi-san's pretty cool! He's gotta be the best ninja in the whole village!" She cut herself off and added a hasty, "other than you, Orochimaru-sensei." Then she paused again. "And Hokage-sama. And Jiraiya-sama."

With an exasperated sigh, I cut her off. "Be certain to maintain your stamina. I won't have him thinking I train weaklings."

Her appraisal of the shinobi of the leaf drew to a quick halt and her expression turned serious. It was obvious my tone had served its intended purpose and driven away, at least momentarily, her foolish streak. The prospect of looking weak in front of Kakashi must have prompted her to at least behave as a proper shinobi should. It made me momentarily contemplate inviting Kakashi along more often if it meant respite from Anko's endless noise. Unfortunately, her state of seriousness did not last.

Hatake Kakashi was still late.

After waiting for what seemed to be a short eternity, Anko's patience had faded completely. Really, it was a wonder she had lasted so long without exploding into a bout of complaint. Sadly, the silence was not meant to last. "I thought he was coming, Orochimaru-sensei. Why are we hanging around here if he's not? I want to learn some new jutsu!"

I silenced her with an irate gesture, showing more temper than she had seen from me in quite some time. Still, she pushed on, oblivious to my own irritation over the boy's tardiness. "Let's just go on without him. What's it matter anyway? If he's not on time it's his own fault if he misses out."

Anko had been on the verge of starting off on her own towards the training grounds when a silent figure appeared, making his way toward us from the main path. Already he looked terribly bored, but when Kakashi drew near enough, he lifted a hand to scratch nervously at the back of his head. The gesture was meant to appear sheepish, but the emotion never seemed to reach the rest of his body and he only managed to look indifferent. "Sorry I'm late. Jiraiya-sama needed my help collecting data."

Collecting data. Of all the absurd ways to waste my time, Jiraiya had to conspire against me and spark the perversions of the Hatake brat just as I was beginning my work with him. I'm quite sure my expression must have spoke volumes, for both Kakashi and Anko stared at me as if I had sprouted a second head. However, whereas Anko looked as if she wanted nothing more than to retreat into the forest, Kakashi only appeared mildly concerned, on the verge of boredom.

There was little to be done, however, about Jiraiya and his influence over the boy. In the end, it hardly mattered if Kakashi became a useless pervert so long as I drew forth the information I needed from him now. His future mattered little. I forced my expression into neutrality once more and addressed the children in a tone that was purposefully bored, as if it were a hassle to work with Kakashi and I only did so as a favor to the Hokage. "Well, let's get on with it. Show me what your eye is capable of."

It had not been long since the death of that Uchiha boy and as I later learned, Kakashi had not yet attempted to put his Sharingan to use since that day. Such was the reason that it gave him such a great deal of difficulty to begin with. When he drew back his forehead protector, I received my first glimpse of the eye and the red, swollen scar that accompanied it, still healing from its impromptu surgery. But it wasn't the scar that drew my real interest, but the Sharingan, standing out like a beacon beside his darker right eye.

It was a shame that the results of my work had not been nearly as thrilling as the anticipation.

Kakashi was not so skilled with that eye of his as he has become and it only took little more than a half an hour to utterly exhaust him. It was as if using the Sharingan devoured every ounce of chakra within him at an alarming rate. I realized right away that, despite what control I or Yondaime could teach him, he would probably never be able to use that eye to its fullest extent without the risk of completely draining himself. It was sad proof against my most promising theories. An unnatural doujutsu could never have the strength of its original owner. Or rather, an unnatural doujutsu gained through a surgery performed by inexperienced and rushed hands.

Still, it was worth further investigation. I hate to admit, but I clung far too long to the hope that somehow I would be able to overcome what could not be overcome. I convinced myself that there must be some way to decrease the amount of chakra the eye demanded. However, any method I tried with the boy over the next few weeks met with the same results, or rather, the same lack of results. In fact, the only thing even remotely notable to come from our time together is the fact that most of Hatake Kakashi's first copied jutsu were of my choosing. He even learned to mimic my Senei Jashu, though I have never in all my days seen him put it to use.

As unfortunate as my lack of progress with the boy was, it was even more unfortunate that at some point in all our weeks together, Anko had become exceedingly smitten with him. In fact, I caught her neglecting her own training more than once to peer at the two of us from the corner of her eye. Of course, she thought herself quite subtle and never imagined I had seen, let alone that Kakashi had. However, had he noticed, the boy gave absolutely no indication, hardly even speaking to Anko unless I required them to work together.

I was especially unhappy regarding the entire scenario after one particular afternoon in which Anko did little more than smile and flirt with the Hatake brat. I dismissed them early, unable to take such nonsense for a moment more. It was my ill luck, though, that I could never seem to take a moment's respite when it was most needed. This time, it was yet again Jiraiya who disturbed me in his typical boisterous manner.

"I can tell by the look on your face that you're ready to impale her on a stick." If only Jiraiya had realized how close he really came to the truth. However, he only laughed a bit too loudly at himself and clamped a hand down on my shoulder. "Don't worry about it so much. Girls are all about guys at that age, you know." He leaned forward, hovering much too far inside my personal space for me to be at all comfortable. "She's got good taste. That kid reminds me of me."

"You imply that you had half his skill at that age." I shrugged my shoulder heavily, knocking his hand away. I was in no mood for his idiocy. "What do you want now?"

I was not meant to see, but from the corner of my eye I caught the change in his expression, a mocking face that was meant no doubt to be comical. "Oi, don't be so grumpy. I was coming to give you a hand with Kakashi-kun, but I didn't think I'd find you throwing a tantrum and sending them home early."

"I was not throwing a tantrum." I cast my usual glare his way, particularly unhappy by both his declaration that I behaved childishly and his insinuation that I could not succeed with Kakashi without his help.

He chose to conveniently ignore my protest, however, and continue spouting his usual nonsense. "They're just kids. Kids are always making googly eyes at each other." The comment in itself was preposterous, but accompanied by Jiraiya's attempted illustration of the aforementioned 'googly eyes' it became downright ludicrous. If I were forced to describe it, I would say he was attempting to cross his eyes while looking both up and down at the same time. This ridiculous picture was made all the worse by the juvenile way in which he shook his rear end.

And the Hokage allowed this man out in public?

"Don't be ridiculous." I did my best to ignore him, stalking past him to make my way back towards the village, but like the persistent fool he was, Jiraiya followed, laughing heartily at himself. That was what made him so infuriating. Jiraiya had no humility.

"Don't you remember that little girl we graduated with?" Jiraiya's eyebrows arched suggestively as he let loose a slightly demented chuckle. "She used to look at you like that all the time."

"There were many girls in our graduating class." I was moving quickly towards the administration building, more specifically my lab, and I could only hope Jiraiya would tire of his games before we arrived. I would just have to make every attempt to push him away. I could hardly do any work with that fool following me. Not to mention, I could not allow him to discover Kabuto-kun. "I can hardly remember any one in particular." Besides, there had never been a single girl, not then or now, who had shown me any interest whatsoever. Women tended to shy away from snakes, or so I've been told.

Jiraiya rolled his eyes, making an exaggerated noise of disappointment. "You're telling me you never even noticed?" He gave me no chance to respond, though, before going on with his mutterings. "Figures you wouldn't. You never pulled your nose out of your books long enough." Then his eyes grew a bit wider and he cast a look my way that expressed both shock and horror, as if he'd only just realized that there was not a woman in the world that wanted a thing to do with him.

If only that had been his epiphany. But rather, it was something much more trivial, and yet much more devastating. "Oi, Orochimaru, have you ever even…?"

"I don't see how that's any concern of yours." I could only assume a handful of things he could possibly be referring to, ranging from the simple concept of dating to things much more vulgar than I like to speak of. In any case, it was my business and mine alone and were I ever inclined to discuss it with another, Jiraiya would have been the last man I would invite to have such a conversation.

However, it seemed as if nothing would deter him from his planned course. "I'm your friend, of course it's my concern. I can't have you wandering around for the rest of your life without getting a little…"

"That's enough." I cut him off before he could begin rattling off various vulgarities, especially in the very public streets of the village. I did not need half of Konoha discussing my love life, or lack thereof. Besides, it should hardly be such a concern for others when I, myself could not have been less interested. Women were merely a distraction from more important things and were I to be fool enough to become involved with one, it would most likely prove to be the end of any and all of my secrets.

Of course, I could not expect Jiraiya to understand such a simple concept, as it likely flew in the face of all he had ever believed. Jiraiya cherished women above all else. I've come to wonder over the years what the fool would have done without the ability to spy on nude women. A part of me imagines he would have simply curled up and died in a display of exaggerated agony. A strategy to remember, should I ever find need to completely destroy him.

And the desire to destroy him was growing stronger by the moment.

"Fine, fine." I did not bother to look, but I could well imagine the pouting going on at my side. Had I seen it, it likely would have made me ill. "We won't talk about it." Despite his words, however, I could practically see the wheels in his head slowly turning, no doubt plotting my demise via a date with some large breasted female version of himself. Jiraiya was far too predictable.

"And I don't want you meddling in my affairs. Things are difficult enough around here without you and your sick notions adding to the problem." I thought my instructions obvious, but it was often better to be quite specific with a man like Jiraiya. We had arrived at the administration building by that time and I was more than happy to part ways at the doors. It seemed, as well, that Jiraiya would offer no protest. It was well enough. I could not have taken a moment more of his babbling.

He, however, intended to babble for at least a few seconds longer, laughing a bit to himself at the same time. "Since when have you known me to meddle? I'd rather save all the women for myself than waste them on a prude like you."

His words were meant to calm my suspicions, but they only had the opposite effect. I knew well enough that when Jiraiya promised noninterference, it was a safe bet that he would interfere quite a bit. I did not believe for a moment that he was willing to leave the point alone now that his heart was so entirely set on finding a woman to go to bed with me. Of course, I doubted very much he could find one. The women of Konoha were not exactly eager to line up outside my door. Still, he seemed eager to carry out his plans, leaving me in blessed solitude at the door and allowing me to vanish into the lower levels before he made me some ridiculous promise.

All of Jiraiya's nonsense was put easily from my mind, though, when I returned to my lab. Kabuto-kun was nowhere in sight and I could only assume he had other duties to attend. It hardly mattered, though. Kabuto's presence was not essential and work could be carried on easily without him. True, he would be angry with me should I make any substantial discoveries in his absence, but the whims of one little boy were not nearly enough to put a stop to science.

Besides, the Rock ninja was awake, his hazy, clouded gaze directed at the ceiling, muscles numbed to prevent any unwanted movement. An angry, red gash marred one dark eye while the other lay still shrouded in bandages. I moved eagerly to his side, though his gaze remained unfocused and never managed to land directly upon me. It hardly mattered. That was not the true test.

"Can you see?" And more importantly… "Can you activate the Sharingan?"


	12. Chapter 12

Again, I'm sorry the updates are so slow in coming. Work is hell. But I hope everyone enjoys this latest chapter, even though it'sa little shorter than I might have liked.

As always, thank you for all the great reviews I've gotten and I hope everyone will continue to read and review. I value your feedback and I'm glad to know I'm able to provide so many people with enjoyment.

Here's hoping I get another chapter done by this time next week. Keep your fingers crossed!

-sor

* * *

I had been terribly eager to gauge the results of my work, but the man was incoherent to the point of ineptitude. At first, he did not seem to understand my questions at all, responding only with a series of unintelligible mumbles. This, sufficed to say, was completely unacceptable. I took a firm hold of the man's chin, yanking his face to the left with considerable strength, forcing him to direct his gaze not on the ceiling, but on me. That seemed to help his focus and the fogginess cleared momentarily from his gaze, only to be replaced by confusion.

"Who the hell are you?" His single eye squinted for a moment as if he were trying to make out some image far distant. A hand twitched as if an attempt had been made to move it, however movement was nearly impossible. The medication Kabuto had given him was intended to keep the body numbed to the point of immobility and that small twitch was likely the extent of his ability to move.

However hostile his questioning, I ignored it. To reply would only give him the impression that he possessed some sort of power over his situation and thus make him more resistant to instruction. Experiments were based entirely on observation and the observation of the subject was of just as much importance as that of the scientist. It was necessary not only to maintain that this man possessed no power, but to break his spirit, allowing him to become as moldable as clay. The first step on this road was to speak with as much indifference as humanly possible, while giving not even the slightest hint of eye contact. "Describe the quality of your vision."

As expected, my indifference prompted anger. Not only that, but his limbs twitched somewhat more violently. He would require further injections soon to prevent not only a violent explosion, but also to protect the Rock nin from himself. I would not risk my only live subject in such a way. Still, he was relentless in his demand for information. "I want to know who you are. Are you here to interrogate me or something? I don't do interrogations so you might as well just forget it."

My more logical side protested, but I simply could not help but put the fool back in his place. "Were I an interrogator, I would likely have what information I need from you in mere moments. What kind of shinobi behaves in such a manner? Is your entire village so stupid?" So much for painful indifference. How quickly one's plans changed when faced with the chance to humiliate your opponent.

I could tell when I finally glanced his way that the man was furious; so much so that his entire body trembled like a leaf in the wind. It was much more satisfying than I had anticipated and quite worth the temporary interference with my plans. And as if angering him were not satisfying enough, he did not even continue to fight me, thinking his silence somehow would absolve him of any stupidity. I should not have, but I absolutely could not help but laugh, which had the added benefit of infuriating the man even further.

"Now that we have established your situation, perhaps you will describe your vision for me."

"Go to hell." The venom in his voice was absolutely delightful! It brought forth another bout of laughter. Good. Let him be difficult. It would make it all the more satisfying when he finally broke.

I approached the table from behind, out of his field of vision. Thanks to the sluggishness brought on by Kabuto's very helpful concoction, he was either unable or too exhausted to turn his head and this it came as a surprise when my hand darted into his field of peripheral vision, causing his gaze to shift quickly in my direction. "Good."

Now that I had determined that he could, at least, see clearly enough, I no longer maintained my distance. Rather I leaned fully over him, tugging the eyelid sharply downward in order to examine the eye itself more closely. The scar was heading nicely, but the eye itself was a brilliant red. Sadly, it was not red in the places I would have preferred. It was the sclera that had taken on such a bright shade. The iris, however, remained completely dark. It was then that I deemed the experiment a complete failure, though later I would admit that the transplant of the eye itself had been quite extraordinary; a testament to Kabuto's talent. However, any hope of the man's eyeball being able to activate the dead Uchiha's Sharingan was completely dashed.

Only a living Uchiha with an active Sharingan would provide a successful transplant and yet even such success would be relative. Through my work with Kakashi, I had determined there must be a better method. Kakashi's Sharingan drained his chakra much too quickly, despite his best efforts to follow my instructions. Using such a technique myself would only put limitations on my ability to perform rather than giving me the edge I desired.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that the Sharingan eye itself was incompatible with any genetics that possessed no blood link to the Uchiha clan. There must have been something more within the clan's anatomy that prevented the unnatural chakra drain. Thus, the only way to possess a Sharingan for one not born Uchiha was to somehow acquire the same genetics as the clan; something that was thus far impossible.

However, I was not one to think anything impossible.

I was also not one to think all knowledge came easily. However, unlike so many, I enjoyed not only the final success, but the process, however lengthy. It was fascinating as much as it was frustrating to observe both success and failure and how one could grow from the other. Kabuto and I shared this quality in abundance and it was he who tempered my eagerness with sense.

Upon arriving, he had put the Rock nin to sleep once more, alleviating the need to tend to his pathetic fretting. It was as I pushed the man only the rolling gurney in order to keep him out of our way and Kabuto was putting away his various tools, that he made the almost casual suggestion. "You know, Orochimaru-sama, maybe we shouldn't waste the Uchiha body on your genetic experiments. Wouldn't it be wiser to perfect our methods using the genetics of a lesser bloodline?"

"Of course it would." I made it a point to answer sharply so as not to allow the brat to think he'd come up with such an idea all on his own. Had I not been so enthusiastic regarding my plans, no doubt I would have had such an idea myself. In fact, it was only a matter of time before I thought of it myself and I did not need some child to suggest what was only logical.

I caught his reaction out of the corner of my eye; a faint smirk and a shake of his head, as if he were merely indulging me when he offered agreement. "Of course, Orochimaru-sama." I let his attitude slide, however, as I often did. Still, to this day, I cannot fully comprehend what it is that prompts me to be so lenient with Kabuto, but I cannot recall any time in which he has ever overstepped his bounds. Teetered precariously close to the edge, perhaps, but never overstepped.

"Besides, there are advantages to pursuing study in other bloodlines." I had thought quite a bit about the lost or dwindling traits which were all too quickly fading from our village. It would be thrilling to rejuvenate the versatility that had existed in my youth and was little more than a memory to a village which had begun more and more to rely upon the success and prestige of a few noble clans.

However, I knew well enough without having to be told that attempting such radical, unprecedented experiments was a risk. Such work required living subjects, which were never easy to come by, even in the war. Plus, the ability to modify the human body to such a degree demanded a more intimate knowledge of the body's inner workings, of which my knowledge was basic; nothing nearly so in-depth as Kabuto's. However, I did not intend to become reliant on the boy. Before I undertook my primary mission, I intended to learn all I could.

This also required bodies, both living and dead, not to mention a variety of fascinating experiments, examinations, and dissections. Let me assure you, there is nothing in this world more magnificent than cutting open a living body and realizing that this bloody mess that lay before you was the most unexplainable phenomenon in the world. To watch a living heart beat and pump blood, only to stop and start again at your whim. To know that you alone held the power of life and death in your hands. It was different from battle. In battle, there is always a margin of control that lies in your opponent, but with science, the power was mine alone.

Not only was the power of life and death in my hands, but that of control as well. I put significant time into my study of the human brain, observing the body's reaction to various stimuli delivered directly to the brain. It was fascinating to think that simply by sawing a man's skull open and applying just the right pressure to any part of the brain, I could prompt anything from movement to speech failures and yes, even death.

I disposed of a number of corpses that year; perhaps six, perhaps more. I realized the danger of overdoing things and thus I limited myself to such a small number, stretching what bodies I could find until there was little left to test. I worked with each one for a time while they lived, but the human body is not as durable as a scientist would wish and they expired far too quickly until eventually there was nothing left of them aside from a variety of entrails and organs scattered throughout the various jars that lined my shelves.

I also took advantage of my living subjects in ways which could not possibly be copied in the deceased. The dead did not allow for any study of the internal chakra system and such information was vital now in order to achieve my goals. Every ninja, of course, has basic knowledge of the chakra system, however even those gifted with the Byakugan cannot fully explain what exactly relegates the flow of chakra. True, they have discovered a means with which to stop or amplify the flow, but as for knowledge of the source of the flow itself, they are as ignorant as all the rest.

However, through careful experimentation, I was able to tentatively effect the rate at which chakra is used by the body, creating a temporary, yet much more powerful flow. This enabled the body to perform above and beyond its intended capacity for a period of time; a reaction similar to the forbidden practice of breaking chakra gates. However, this technique caused no physical damage aside from the sheer exhaustion and potential death that has always come from chakra depletion. Yet the technique was incomplete. It was not in me, after all, to grant such power to a human being without coupling it with some means of control. What good was strength if it was not used for my benefit?

The very first efforts at what would eventually become my curse seal were performed on a pair of captured Rock nin, but both turned out to be nearly insurmountable failures. Their bodies were unable to adapt to the sudden influx of power and within hours, they were little more than burnt out shells. This development seemed to greatly amuse Kabuto, who merely shook his head at my failures, wearing that self satisfied smirk of his that seemed both out of place and all too fitting on his youthful face. "Their bodies were simply unable to adapt to such a great change." He strolled past me to one of the deceased men, peering over the charred remains with barely contained glee. "Did you know, Orochimaru-sama, that children are much more adaptive to change than adults?" His amusement vanished for a time, though, as his focus settled on the fascinating subject of the human body. "Their bodies are not yet fully developed and are much easier to mold while also leaving little or no permanent damage. Children are quite resilient."

I only spared the barest glance over my shoulder at the boy, but it was clearly enough to send him shrinking, turning away to busy himself with one of those pointless projects I forced him to complete in order to satisfy Yondaime's demands. Still, I thought I saw the smallest hint of a smirk, hidden in the shadows of his bowed head. I fully intended to wipe away that smirk. "Tell me, Kabuto-kun, where I might find children readily available for testing? I know of only one within my reach."

As expected, my words silenced him for a time, though he managed to quite skillfully keep his expression hidden. He was correct, of course. Children were more adaptive to change, both mentally and physically. It would have been a blessing to have enough children at my disposal for such things, but Konoha was hardly full of children at the moment. The war had killed a number of them through one foolish act or another and it was always a risk to snatch a child. Children are always missed more than adults and the effort put into retrieving them was twice as strong. Still, I could not resist the temptation.

The child I acquired was a stupid little thing, found sneaking about the battlefield one evening, ignoring the orders given to the genin to remain far from the front lines. His arrogance served to be his undoing, though I should think he would be proud to be such an integral part of the improvement of Konoha. Or rather, the improvement of Konoha's strongest shinobi. Unfortunately, he was of less use than I anticipated. The curse seal killed him in less than an hour. Still, he did provide me with a few scraps of valuable information; enough to keep me occupied for days, at least.

It was due to my rampant fascination with all things biological and genetic that I began to neglect my other duties. I refused missions more often than I had previously. My training with Anko wavered at times, though I forced myself to tolerate the task, if only to maintain the image that I did, indeed care for the future of Konoha, or at least the future of my student. Still, despite my loathing of our time together, Anko continued to progress at her usual rapid pace, though she pouted more often than not regarding Kakashi's desire to train alone once more. I did not mind, though. I had learned all there was to learn from that boy.

It was during this period of great monotony that the war with Iwagakure was finally ended and the Rock nin were sent back to their pathetic village with their tails between their legs. It was quite satisfying to illustrate our dominance so completely, but in the same vein, it left me at a loss. My main source of test subjects had vanished more quickly than I anticipated, leaving me at a troubling impasse.

I managed to stretch the usefulness of my test subjects even more than I had before the end of the war, but there was only so much progress to be made from one solitary corpse. It was then that I was forced by necessity to become even more crafty. Still, I rarely took a shinobi from our village unless his death could be passed off as a mission casualty. I was not yet confidant enough to risk even the slightest suspicion from blossoming among the other village ninja. As a result, at times, I was forced to return to mild studies of measly animals for the purpose of satisfying myself between the more intriguing human dissections.

It was during one such study, testing various levels of chakra strength on a group of rats that my lab door was flung open with a thundering crash. Such an action put me into an immediate fury, not only because there was not a single thing in my lab that was unbreakable, but because of the invasion of privacy that could have proven disastrous on any other occasion. However, when I saw the state of panic on Anko's face, I bit back my anger long enough to hear her out.

She was forced to take in a few gulps of air before she could speak, but when she was able, her words poured out in a frantic jumble. "Orochimaru-sensei, it's an emergency! The village is in danger!"

The girl had always had a tendency for the dramatic so it was a simple matter to brush off her words as merely exaggeration. "In danger? How so?"

"One of the sentinels spotted it coming at us through the woods. Hokage-sama already went to intercept it and they're ordering everyone to assume posts. You'll be able to stop it if you hurry and nobody will get hurt!" She even dared to dart forward and take a frantic grasp of my arm. "Hurry, Orochimaru-sensei!"

I was on the verge of anger once more, but curiosity had slowly begun to overtake my stronger emotions. "What is it the sentinels have spotted?"

Her eyes grew wide the moment she realized she had neglected to even convey the basics, but judging by her expression it was as if she were afraid to even utter the word.

"Kyuubi."


End file.
